


Heaven or Hell

by ll4nce



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bets, Langst, Multi, No Space, Suicide Attempt, because technically voltron is in the future, but its not that bad, but they look human?, can i say modern au, everyone is human, lets say present au?, notice the "attempt", oh theres cursing also, okay ill add more tags when i progress with this, people will be killed, so???, specifically :), survival game between gods, violence is there, well other than the gods that is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-10-06 19:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17351189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ll4nce/pseuds/ll4nce
Summary: “We try to kill each other, as always.” Another raised eyebrow. “Can you even do that? Aren't gods immortal?”“No, we can't. We are indeed immortal.” A confused noise rose from Adam's throat, clearly, as he couldn't understand why the gods would play a game that no one will ever win. “And that's where you come in. We were supposed to pick a human partner today by touching their hand. If a partner dies, the team is eliminated. And other than us, humans can die. So it's all about protecting them while killing the partners of the other gods.”Adam likes to think he lived a pretty normal life. A splash of black blood and everything changes forever.(Or: Adam gets dragged into a game between five bored gods by accident)Discontinued.





	1. HEAVEN: Leben/Zukunft

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watching Voltron with my sister on Netflix and I'm way too into this so I gotta unload my inner fangirl, there ya go. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam meets Shiro. Adam's blood turns black. Shiro is a god.

_The black king moves his pieces to stop impending doom to the kingside, where his king innocently sat after castling that way. Both the white queen and the bishop attacked the farthest corner of the castle of pawns, h7. He simply moved a knight from e7 to g6 and blocked the enemy advances, making the white king groan._

_“Stop playing so defensive!” He complains. “Chess is never fun with you.” He then moves a pawn forward to attack the kingside again. Luckily, his king castled at the queenside, so this won't leave him open for attacks._

_Dark black blue eyes flick up to him, a smile following. “Don’t be upset. Remember, patience yields focus.”_

_“You say that all the time,” he huffs, impatiently waiting for the others move. The black king laughs, then proceeds to move his own pawns, ready to attack._

_Lava red eyes are rolled. “Are you copying my strategy? That's lame.” His opponent just shrugs. Eye roll again. “Whatever. I'll be faster, and when attacking with pawns like this, it's about who can ignore the other for longer anyway.” So he ignored the black pieces and advances his own pawns. His opponent chuckles._

_“What's so funny?”_

_“Nothing. Just thinking about how you should look away from what you can do for once and think about what your enemy can do. The movement of my pawn was only to make way for my queen.” And moving his queen he does. The innocent, defenseless knight on b4 was now directly in line of the attack of the black queen, the white king now having a piece less than the black king as he cruelly took it._

_The white king snarled. “Whatever, I'm still winning.” A laugh. “Whatever you say.”_

\---

Adam likes to think he is normal. He has a small apartment to himself and his fat, lazy cat, works a boring office job, sometimes goes out with friends or to visit family and usually eats self-cooked meals but takeout if he feels lazy. He never did anything to stick out, never anything to be special or something like that.

So how come he finds himself in a situation like this?

He was just walking home from the supermarket, the store fairly close to the multistory building his apartment was in. And even though it was already dark, life was buzzing in the city, neon lights shining in the distance, more or less shady people shifting about, women with revealing clothing or men in suits and with black cases, hurrying down the streets. Adam was the latter, only with shopping bags instead of cases, not really having the time to get changed before shopping if he wanted to avoid too much of the city's nightlife. 

So there he was, after a hard day, feeling especially tired after his co-worker messed up again, leaving him to clean his mess. Usually, he'd walk around the block to avoid robbers or similar things in the alleys between the high skyscrapers. Because having a boring office job apparently doesn't help you shape up at all and he was as weak as a man his age could be. Plus it could easily be avoided. But today, he felt especially not ready to put up with the extra length he had to walk because of that. So he went through a little shortcut to get home faster.

And that's when it happened. A few males were grouping in the alley, but he was able to walk past them by simply walking left. So he did just that. A single glance to the right, however, revealed that the men were ganging up on another male, hair white as snow and eyes closed, dressed fairly normal for someone his age. The attackers had their hands on knives, which they didn't use as they kicked the defeated male on the ground. There was no sneering, no laughing, no yelling. The scene was eerie if Adam had to describe it. 

But now that he looked back on it, he could've noticed that something was strange on the scene. Like how their knives, the ground and the victim's clothes had been had all been sullied with a thick black substance, a weirdly metallic smell typical for blood hanging over the alley. Not a normal humans blood. The silence and seemingly missing goal of the attackers other than beating the other could've tipped her off as well.

But Adam hadn't really paid attention to that, they were about to kill the man. So he set his shopping bags down with a sigh and coughed a few times, the males’ attention turning on him. “Uh,” he said, intelligently. “I'll call the police?” Great. He really should've thought about this. Because now the men were attacking him and he was a weak noodle. Damn office jobs.

They swung their knives at him. He closes his eyes and uselessly holds his hands in front of him, but the pain never came. So he cracks open an eye to see what the hell happened and surprise, of course, it's not the police that saved him. It was the male they were ganging up upon, healthy on his two feet, punching them like he wasn't dripping liters of blood onto the ground.

Big deal.

“Are you okay? I'll call an ambulance.” But the male with the snow white hair looked at him, just lying in the ground a second ago, a kind smile on his lips. “I don't think that will be necessary. Thank you, however.” He patted his clothes as if to dust them off, completely ignoring that they were in fact soaked in blood, which you can't pat off.

“I'm calling an ambulance.” He reached for his phone, but the man stopped him but grabbing his hand. “There's no need. I'm fine and they'll be fine.” But Adam wasn't able to hear that sentence. His mind was filled with the color black, four entities in different colors, blue, pink, yellow and green. And a name. _Shiro._

“Shit!” The curse made him look up again to see the white-haired man - _Shiro_ \- watch him with wide eyes. He looks around as if paranoid that someone was watching. “Uh, can we go to your place or something? I may have some things that I want to explain to you.”

Adam opened his mouth to protest but closes it again. Then he just led him to his apartment, with him also carrying his groceries (“it's fine, you helped me also”) and got the first-aid kit out. As he made the other male strip in order to see the wounds clearer, he found out that the other had, in fact, no wounds at all. They sat like that for a few minutes in complete silence, Shiro smiled when he finished and tidied his first-aid kit.

And then all hell broke loose.

“Why is your blood _black_?! Why can you even move after all of this blood you lose?! Who even are you?! Why were these people just attacking you?! Who were those people just attacking you?! Why did I just let you into my apartment?! What is wrong with me?! Why are you so calm, you nearly died?! Why do you look like you're completely fine and that what happened just know didn't happen at all? Oh God, did it even happen? Am I dreaming? Am I _crazy_? Why! How! What!”

The man blinked twice at his question barrage as if to think which question he should answer first. “Uh”, he then eloquently got out. “Let's start with an introduction. My name is Shiro.” He took a break from speaking and looked at him expectantly, but still patiently. “I'm...Adam.” He smiled at him. “What a beautiful name. Anyway, I'm a god.”

And that's how Adam somehow ended up with a god on his couch, the god's black bloodied clothing traded against some things he borrowed him at his apartment. He also changed out of his work clothes, made himself and his guest some tea and sat down across of him breathing in deep and chunked a large amount of burning hot tea. It burned his tongue but he ignores the pain. “Please explain again,” he says. Shiro smiles kindly.

“I'm a god. And I'm with you humans because I'm playing a game with my fellow gods. We're five including me.”

“Okay,” Adam says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Now explain why our blood is so weird.”

“It's because my play color is black. Like when you humans choose a certain color for a board game. My color is black. Which is why my blood is black. And now your blood will be black too because you're my partner.”

Adam just looks at him, eyebrows raised and frowning deeply. “Humans have red blood,” he says slowly. “Not black, or blue, or whatever.”

“Oh…” Shiro seems to rub his neck a bit awkwardly. He looks at the ground before finally meeting his glare with his own eyes, a weak smile on his lips. “It's, uh, godly blood? You should be glad, maybe?” Adam is not amused.

“Okay, and what is this game about…?”

“We try to kill each other, as always.” Another raised eyebrow. “Can you even do that? Aren't gods immortal?”

“No, we can't. We are indeed immortal.” A confused noise rose from Adam's throat, clearly, as he couldn't understand why the gods would play a game that no one will ever win. “And that's where you come in. We were supposed to pick a human partner today by touching their hand. If a partner dies, the team is eliminated. And other than us, humans can die. So it's all about protecting them while killing the partners of the other gods.” 

“Okay, tell me more about the gods.”

“As I said, there's five of us including me. There's Keith. His color is blue. His black hair is styled like something the humans like to call a mullet, his eyes are stormy and cold blue. He is very competitive and hotheaded, sometimes a bit too much to handle even for the others. He is good at heart, but often doesn't think about the consequences of his actions and he's also way too goal-oriented, impatient and easily bored. Man, I hope he doesn't win.”

Adam nods slowly. Shiro sees this as an incentive to keep talking.

“Then there's Allura. Her color is pink. She has darker skin than the rest of us - her hair is silvery, a bit like this white stones you are so obsessed with, you know - and her eyes pink. She's smart, cunning, manipulative and immensely powerful. A big contrast to Keith's charge without thought attitude. Allura may seem like a weak, beautiful girl when you first meet her, but she's always ready to smash heads in. That's just an act to lower your guard. She's cold and doesn't really care about anyone or anything, especially not humans. She plays to win. I...also hope she doesn't win.”

“Uhuh.” Adam isn't sure what to say. He's glad Shiro just continues talking.

“Pidge’s color is green. She's small, has short and messy brown hair and wears glasses over her leaf green eyes. She's immensely smart but doesn't use her knowledge to trick people other than Allura does. Keith once made fun of her by calling her Miss Library for a while. Let's...say this didn't end so pretty for him. She's honest to a fault, easily fascinated by the inventions of you humans and has a short temper. Other than the other two though, she does care. About some things other than winning, that is. I wouldn't mind if she won.”

Adam makes more tea.

“Hunk, who is a literal hunk, big with brown hair and earth golden eyes, the god with the color yellow, is just a nice guy. He cares about humans, nature, animals and hates bloodshed. He also likes to eat, it's the most fascinating thing for him on Earth. Interestingly enough, he gets along really well with Allura. In case that he wins, I must look out for Allura's manipulating attempts.”

He sips on his tea. “And in the game with those gods, you accidentally bounded me by touching my hand?”

Shiro nods, face serious. “Yes. I feel so sorry, but I cannot change this now. Just know that I'll protect you as best as I can. I must win this anyway, I can't let Allura or Keith win.”

“Why is it so important to win for you?”

“Well…” Shiro rubs his neck again, smiling nervously. “We did bet on something,” he explains. “The winner gets to decide everything in the human world for the next thousand years. We usually decide together so nothing horrible out of Keith's or Allura's head can be made true to entertain them. So that's why I don't want either of them to win.”

“Okay,” Adam says, setting her teacup down. “So you're a god with the color black, here on Earth to play a game with your fellow gods in which you have to make a human your ally by touching their hand-” 

“Once the connection is there it also can't be reverted.”

“Yeah, and that - their blood turn the color of the god's color and if they are killed, the god loses and has to leave the game. The winner then gets to rule as God for the next thousand years?”

Shiro nods. “That's exactly it.”

“You're nuts,” Adam says.

Shiro sighs. “I didn't expect you to believe me. But at least let me stay close. I can protect you better this way. Better, just let me move in. I'll try to make sure you're the last human partner alive. For that, I shall be by your side for as long as I need to. I will start to live here to observe you and care for your safety. I will get my things and move in tomorrow.”

“You're kidding,” Adam says, rolling his eyes as he cleaned the tea sets. But Shiro had already made up his mind. “Adam, remember to not trust anybody. Anyone could be an ally of the other gods or the gods. If they catch you, I can't do anything.” Adam wants to protest, but he hears the front door to his apartment open and close with a silent click, making him sigh. “I attracted a real weirdo this time.”

\---

Tomorrow he wakes up and yesterday's events are forgotten. He chalks it up as some weird delusional guy chatting too much and thinks he'll never see him again. Alright next. Bathroom, tea, breakfast, getting dressed, walk to work. Because it's not that far anyway.

“You look like shit today, Adam!” He smiles because it's polite to do so. He actually can't stand him at all. “Thank you, Lance.” Lance is his co-worker, the one who always messes up. He is rather the lanky type, about as tall as he was, thin as a stick and arms, legs like noodles. His skin is dark, hinting his Cuban heritage and his hair is an even darker shade of brown, short, messy and very boyish. He is certainly different from the other male office workers. For one, his ocean blue eyes had still a certain light to them, still twinkling when he laughs. He talks all day, flirts with everything in a skirt, praise gets to his head really fast, plus he really likes to boast, still has some childish antics like lame jokes or cringeworthy pick-up lines and he just doesn't shut up, he is way too happy for an adult with the most boring office job in the world. Like today, where Adam zones him out with the excuse to work like always and empties his brain, works, goes home when it was time to go home with a quick goodbye to his co-workers, a polite smile towards Lance who still tries to get him to notice him (“C'mooon, Adam! Let's get some drinks together!” “I'm sorry, I'm quite busy today. Maybe some other time.”) and avoids the dark alley this time.

He checks for letters, opens the front door, uses the elevator rather than the stairs, and enters the hallway which leads to his apartment, the old neighbor lady about to leave right now. Adam greets her politely, the old lady a smile on her lips as she sees him. “Oh Adam, dear, I've met your boyfriend today as he was moving his things into your apartment. What a politely and handsome man, you've got a good taste, my child.” Adam opens his mouth to say something, but the old lady excuses herself because apparently, she has to be somewhere, so he closes his mouth again and just goes to his apartment, opening it with a frown on his face - and as he predicted, it opens without him having to unlock it. “Welcome home!” A voice says from the back of her apartment.

He sighs, throwing his shoes off, marching to the living room, ready to unleash hell on this _boyfriend_ of his - he opens the door and there he is, the almighty god - _Shiro_ \- sitting on his couch like it's his own, blankets and pillow folded neatly at the side of it, tea set ready on the small coffee table on it. “Adam,” he says warmly. “Don't worry, I haven't gone into your bedroom. I took the liberty of putting my clothes and such in the empty closet here.”

Adam opens his mouth. Shiro watches with a mild smile. “How did you even get in here?”

He shrugs. “I'm a god.”

“Okay,” Adam says. “Now get out.”

Shiro's eyes widen. “But I'm making dinner!” Adam gaps at him. “You're making what? Oh, whatever. Why are you here?” Shiro smiles at him again, as one would do to a confused child. “I have to protect you from Keith and the other gods, right? I'll move in, so it'll be safer. This way, if Keith decides he wants to crash through the window to kill you, I can protect you.”

“You must be kidding!” Adam says, glaring at the male in her apartment. His attention shifts to the pots in his kitchen, however, standing up without answering him.

Then he twinks around a bit, finishes whatever, and then puts two hot plates of spaghetti bolognese on the counter next to the kitchen, starting to clean the pots he used. “Let's eat!” He then says, clapping his hands with a smile. The sheer weirdness of the situation made them eat together in relative silence. 

And Adam thinks while chewing on some of the food (“hey, this is pretty good!” “Haha, well I try.”) how in the world did his life get so weird all of the sudden? Because apparently, he now has a roommate who does all the housework for him (“I took the liberty and cleaned everything, cooked some, and rearranged some things so they are easier to find while you were away.”) who also thinks he's a god (“I wonder how the other godly partners are.”), plus he is that god's partner (“I'm sorry for dragging you into this. But I really can't change it now.”) and he's crashing on his couch (“I hope you don't mind - well, if you do, the ground is fine as well”). But Shiro doesn't listen to his protests and promises to not be in his way. So he just lets him crash. Like whatever, too much of a pain to think about all this. He ignores all the weird questions whirring around in his mind and just goes to sleep.

The next day he wakes up. He goes on to try his usual morning routine - except Shiro is still there. Ah, he did kind of zone him out yesterday. “Good morning, Adam,” he says, smiling at him. “I have made breakfast. Please enjoy it.” It's tasty. He eats, then proceeds to go into the bathroom, getting himself ready to leave for work. “Have a good day!” Shiro calls from the kitchen. “Remember to not trust anyone!” Adam rolls his eyes and decides that maybe this situation is not so bad. Shiro may be a major weirdo, but he does his housework, which makes more time for him to relax after work. And he makes enough money for both of them anyway. It's like hiring a daily help, or something like that. And he also admits that the old lady isn't wrong and Shiro is indeed a handsome, polite man. Just very weird. He'll just play along with him and ignore all the problems and questions. Yes, that sounds like a great plan.

Work is how work always is. He takes the lunch Shiro has prepared for him (“you take breaks, yes? My meal is very healthy and I hope you enjoy it!”) to the roof during break and starts eating. It's good. “Stupid Shiro…” 

“Shiro?” It's a familiar voice behind him. Lance. He looks up at Lance, smiling. But his smile immediately fades as he sees his face. Lance's eyes, usually bright and sparkling like the sea in the sun, were as cold as ice, narrowed. He was frowning - it was a scary new look for his co-worker.

And then he just swipes a pocket knife at him. Surprised, Adam raises his hands, closing his eyes - but the blade wasn't meant to strike him badly and only cuts his palm open. Not too deeply, but enough to make him bleed. And Adam thinks, _he'll see my weird blood and then I'll be cut open for research purposes and this sucks_ and waits for a scream of surprise, a sharp intake of breath or anything, feeling the liquid running down her hand. 

But all he got was “Black blood? I knew it!” Adam decides that this is a great time to open his eyes. Lance watches him with a cold gaze and a smile around his lips that could be classified as freezing. He didn't dare to make a sound. “Keith! Keith, I found one of them, I found him!”

And Adam feels a presence behind him. “Shiro has been very careless. Recruiting someone like you as talkative as you as his partner means immediate elimination,” someone whispered in his ear and Adam whirls around just in time to spot a gigantic blade, glowing blue eyes and - wow a mullet? He hasn't seen one of those in ages - black hair. _Keith_. Shiro's words from yesterday all came flooding back to him and he realizes he's going to be killed, right here right now, because Lance is the ally of the blue god and _Shiro wasn't actually kidding_ and there's a gigantic blade at his neck. He doesn't know what to do.

So he just stares at the other's cold eyes, shivering as the blue seemed to glow, his own eyes widening slightly as the only color he was able to see was blue, freezing blue and he doesn't know what he should do or what's going on-

“ADAM!” And then, _the god, Keith_ \- he doesn't know if he should call him that, but he has no idea what else to call him - is pushed out of his line of sight by some handsome stud, snow-white hair in the wind, black eyes as glowing as Keith's blue ones where, a fierce and determined glare in his face - wait, it's Shiro, Adam realizes.

“Shit, what the hell man!” Keith gets up groaning while Shiro positions himself in front of him, shielding. “Shiro?” He glares at Adam's defender, clicking his tongue. “You got here pretty fast. I was hoping I could kill him without you even noticing.”

“Keith,” Shiro says with a snarl. So he really was the Keith Shiro was talking about. Adam feels like he just cheated death. To be fair, he did think Shiro was just nuts. Well, confronted with nearly being killed by the blue god after being betrayed by his goofy co-worker Lance of all people, he must admit that maybe Shiro isn't as crazy as he thought he was. Because apparently, he was telling the truth.

And that's how Adam met two gods - circling each other as to perceive which approach they should choose - apparently fighting. Lance and himself stood a bit farther off, avoiding getting into their gods’ way. Or at least Adam thought so. Because the next second, shit went down as Lance suddenly pulled out a gun out of nowhere and opened fire on Adam - Shiro jumping in quickly to block it with his own weapon - a saber that replaced his arm. For that, he had to shift attention away from Keith, who didn't hesitate to attack Shiro with his own blade from the side safe from Lance's bullet rain, a fiery grin on his lips as he managed to gash Shiro on the shoulder. But the worst things was that Shiro wasn't quite able to block or dodge all of Keith's blows - after all, he also had to block Lance's gunshots. One would think he'd run out of bullets some time, but alas, he didn't.

“We're retreating!” Shiro shouts as Keith manages to somehow open a wound again, black blood oozing out of it. And with those words, he shoots his arm blade in Lance's direction - Keith whirling around to protect his partner - and the attacks stop shortly, so Shiro can lift Adam and just jump down the roof. As soon as Keith notices, he jumps down alongside with them, slashing his blade at Shiro who had only one arm ready for attack or defense, spawning another arm blade which clashed with Keith's blade. Lance remained on the roof, apparently scared to jump down - and also scared to open fire as he could hit Keith - just just stood there, dumbfounded, watching as Shiro landed a good kick and Keith was catapulted into some building nearby - Adam sure hoped nobody was hurt - the sound of cracking glass and screams echoing. Shiro saw a chance in there, and quickly ran, Lance, who started firing again with Keith out of the way, narrowly missing. 

They got away. “Uh,” Adam says. Shiro gives him a look. “Don't worry, it's my fault. I don't blame you for what happened. I have underestimated my fellow gods. Of course, they picked people who can fight. I'm so stupid. I'll give you the chance to train with me so we'll be better prepared next time.”

“No,” Adam shakes his head. “I was wondering...about the building...and Keith…” Shiro shrugs. “Oh that? We're gods, we somehow fix that.” And Adam knows he can't even say anything against that argument. 

_When did everything become like this?_

\---

“You fucked up, Lance!” The male visibly flinched, eyes apologetic as they searched for Keith's. “I'm sorry, but-”

“No buts! You could have just shot! Even if you hurt me, I'm a damn god! It doesn't matter if you hit me with 15 bullets, the important thing is that you hit Shiro's partner with a single one! And you can't even do that! You're fucking useless. Fuck, I should've just let you die. Can't win with a dead weight like you.” Lance looks like he wants to say something, anything, but Keith punches him right on the nose before a word can come out. Lance stumbles back, eyes wide as he stares back at his so-called partner. “Now Shiro knows the identity of my useless partner and will prepare to make me lose, prepare to kill you. We surprised him, we could've won against him, but nooooo, you had to miss every bullet you shot. I hope you do better next time.”

Lance stays silent and follows Keith as he leaves the room with his eyes. And he wonders _when did everything become like this?_


	2. HELL: Verschwinden/Vergessen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam meets Veronica. Keith is building an alliance. Shiro asks Hunk for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick updates because I'm still on break, hell yeah! Enjoy!

_“Maybe we should make some rules,” Keith says._

_“Oh, I got one! We can't use manipulation on the gods’ partner. You know, like memory loss, hypnosis, that kind of stuff.” Shiro nods at Hunks rule. Allura looks a bit miffed, however._

_“Let's add disguise and other mind tricks to that. The partner gets as unfoolable eyes as we have,” Keith says. More agreeing murmurs._

_“We can't follow the gods to find out who his partner is. That's like camping.” Pidge groans. “Yes, that rule is especially for you, gremlin.”_

_“Shut up, Keith. I have one just for you then. Gods cannot attack a human unless they have seen blue, green, black, yellow or pink blood that the human has. So you don't go make a massacre.”_

_“Tch.”_

_“Does this rule expand to our partner, however?”_

_“No. They can attack humans all they like. They don't have our godly power, after all. Even if we're allowed to give them a Bayard to fight alongside and against us.”_

_“What if you need to defend yourself,” Hunk asks._

_“Only if you need to defend an innocent or your human or something like that, who knows. We shouldn't get in situations where we should defend ourselves against normies anyway.”_

_“So if a random human gets attacked by normies we can intervene?” Shiro asks. The others nod._

_“Does manipulate count as an attack?” Allura asks. The others nod._

_“No manipulating unless they find out that you're actually a god or something that humans can't explain happens. Only our partner is allowed to know the truth. Then you're allowed to delete their memories. You're allowed to fix your messes, that means. Looking at you, Keith.”_

_“Oh, ha-ha.”_

_“Leave the normies as much out as it is possible. We can warrant more rules later. When the occasion comes. But for now, I think this is enough.”_

\---

Adam stood in his usual supermarket, watching all of the different vegetables he could buy. And he thinks _should I buy broccoli or zucchini? I know Shiro likes zucchini and he did want to try out some new recipe with it_ followed by _wow I think about what he wants while I'm shopping groceries that's kind of weird._

In the end, he puts the zucchini in the basket and thinks about buying more snacks - not very keen on going back to his workplace after what had happened there, he called in sick for a while - he needs them so he can relax at home. Even though Shiro constantly reminds him _how unhealthy_ those are. He also always reprimands Adam for separating the trash wrong. This feels less like he got a new roommate and more like his mom came to live with him. But he can't kick Shiro out - not with Keith knowing how he looks. So they continue living together - more or less cozy.

Sometimes, Shiro goes on a look around to search for the gods’ partners (“if you need help, just call for me in your mind. I'll hear you.”) - like Lance. He hasn't been successful, however, looking defeated when he came home and slumped on his - their - couch. Adam then awkwardly patted his back and murmured some encouraging words, which was also weird. He stopped trying to question the weird things long ago (like a day after Shiro moved in) however, so he just didn't and didn't think.

He moves to buy snacks, a whole bunch of the chips he knows Shiro likes (because the chances of being scolded went down if Shiro was busy eating this himself). “Adam?” He startled. Unconsciously, his hand wrapped around the weapon Shiro had given him (“it's called a Bayard, it'll form the weapon that best suits you if you want to use it.”) in his jacket pocket, at the moment only in the initial and harmless form. He has no idea how to use it. He never had to use it. And then he whirls around. “Oh, it is you! Can we talk real quick?”

Dark skin. Chocolate brown hair. Ocean blue eyes. It's Lance, Lance is right here, he found him again and Keith is probably not too far away - he has to defend himself and call Shiro and-

“Adam, are you okay?” And a hand finds itself on his shoulder and he flinches. Pretty badly. The hand goes away again. “Adam,” a familiar voice says. And suddenly, his vision is filled by a god among men, beautiful and shiny eyes, lips pursed in worry and a body that - oh, it's just Shiro. Who is an actual god among men. Heh, that was pretty funny.

“Oh...Takashi,” (they decided shouting Shiro in public spaces got him exposed so he had to make up a cover name. Takashi was just the first thing that came to his mind and they stuck with it) Adam says, wondering if showing himself openly with his partner like this could maybe be bad for their secret. Shiro looks relieved when he calms down, his hands moving away from Adam's shoulders - hey, he didn't even notice that - and moving to stand next to him instead of in front of him, which gave vision on the person who was speaking to him before again. Lance. Well, uh, female Lance (“can gods make people's appearance change?” “Well, yes, but because you're my partner, you have my eyes, so something like that won't trick you.” “So this isn't Lance in disguise?” “No, probably not.”).

“What are you whispering about?” The woman says, clearly a bit annoyed. Adam cleared his throat - and put on his best smile, it's radiant - with every intention to calm this woman down. Because she looks scary when she's pissed. “Sorry, Miss. I was just asking Takashi here if he knew you. I didn't mean to be impolite. However, as we both seem to be not sure who you are, I must ask for your name. I hope I'm not too rude.”

She looks at him, surprised, then says, “Oh. My name's Veronica. I'm the sister of one of your co-workers, Lance. Lance has introduced us on one occasion, but it was a while ago and I understand if you don't remember.” Oh but Adam does remember. At the mention of her name and the words _Lance's sister_ he immediately remembered this woman (“please look out for my brother. He's a human mess.” “I can't promise anything.”). And he nods. “I can remember. So, is there a reason why you wanted to talk?” 

Shiro next to him looks very uncomfortable and throws him glances. Adam rolls his eyes and shushes him away. The more time they spend together in public, the more suspicious it will be for the other gods. Veronica also looks a bit relieved when the other goes away. “I wanted to ask you about Lance,” she says, clearly distressed. “You work with him, don't you? Have you seen him lately?” Her voice hitches and to Adam's horror, she starts crying. Slowly at first, but then it was like the floodgates had been broken and she openly cried and sobbed, Adam not knowing what he should do other than dropping his groceries for a moment to give her an awkward hug. Her reaction is immediate - she hugs him back and cries into his chest. Very awkward indeed.

“Lance, he,” Veronica sobs, “he just disappeared off the face of earth! We can't contact him and no one can find him or has seen him, I'm so worried!” Adam thinks about how he's probably hiding with Keith because they are scared that Shiro goes after him, but decides that he probably shouldn't tell. Instead, he leads her out if the supermarket (and swears he'll be back for the groceries later) and into a cafe next door, asking for tea to help her calm down.

Veronica has a hard time separating from him, but he somehow managed to pry her off with soothing words and encouragements. And after a cup of tea, she also calms down to explain properly. And she is embarrassed that she hugged a pretty much stranger, refused to let him go and cried in the supermarket. Very embarrassed. Like she blushes and stutters. She has to calm down a second time.

“We got a call from his boss, how he didn't show up for work unannounced for a few days and no one is answering the phone in his apartment,” she says, sipping her third cup of tea. “They wanted to ask if he was with us and if he's alright. He wasn't at home, however, so I came to look at his place, to see if he was just too sick to get the phone or anything like that. But his apartment was empty - well, all of his belongings were still there, even leftovers, groceries, anything - the police said it looked like he didn't plan to leave, to disappear. They think he was kidnapped or something.”

Adam thinks about that. If Lance really went into hiding with Keith, he would've at least taken some of his stuff, right? 

“Lance has been missing for a month now. Everyone is so worried,” Veronica continues. “You probably haven't seen him, haven't you?”

Adam shakes his head. “No, I'm afraid not.” He really doesn't want to tell her that in order to live, he and his partner have to kill Lance. Wait, now that he thinks about it, that sounds really messed up. He'll kill a guy. Technically. And he has a family, they're all worried about him and he'll kill a guy. Wow. 

“Don't worry, the police will find him eventually.” And because he's such an asshole, he says, “Please message me when they find him, were co-workers and I'm worried as well.” One would believe he couldn't sink any lower, but then he adds, “I know he has been hanging out with a male about his age, black hair, mullet - I _know_ who has a mullet this age - blue eyes, red jacket, black shirt and pants, boots and generally some bad-boy-lone-wolf-vibe. Maybe he knows what's going on with Lance.”

Veronica looks thankful, not noticing his true intentions. Adam feels even more like a dick, but he does want to live and one step to staying alive is eliminating Keith from this stupid god game and that's archived by killing Lance who they have to find first. 

“Thank you, Adam. I'll ask the police to look out for this boy as well.” Adam nods at her, the fakest smile he ever smiled on his face. At least the office job helped with that. “I hope my clue will help find Lance,” he says. Veronica smiles at him. He feels like the biggest dick in the world.

They part and Veronica pays for all of her tea plus his own cup instead of letting him pay (which makes him feel even more of a jerk. He feels like he's quickly reaching another low...or high?) and he goes back to the supermarket, picks up the groceries which we're exactly where and how he left them throws in some extra snacks, pays and heads home. 

And he thinks _damn Adam, you just tricked Lance's sister into betraying his location once they find him to kill him and made her believe you're worried and you care about him. Never knew office jobs made you into incredible liars like this._

\---

“Why did you want to speak with me, Allura?”

The beautiful god, back turned to Shiro, watching on the city's nightlife from the roof they were meeting on, sighs. “... I thought it would be fair to let you know that Keith is currently building alliances.” Shiro raises an eyebrow. Allura knows without even looking that he does.

“He knows how your partner looks and he wants to tell his allies. If he teams up with the others, it's easy for him to pick both of you off.” 

Shiro sighs, deep in thought. “...So? Anyone thinking about joining forces with him?” Allura finally turns around, a serious look on her face. “Let it be known that I do not plan on joining any alliances. Not with you either, Shiro.” He nods. “But I got word that Pidge is thinking about working together with Keith. So if you don't want to meet an early end, you'd have to recruit Hunk before they can.”

“I'll talk to him,” Shiro says, standing up. “Thank you Allura.”

“You say thank you,” Allura turns around again, “but your eyes are full of mistrust. Don't you trust me, Shiro?”

“I don't,” he whispers. As she doesn't respond, he just leaves.

\---

Adam has been home for a while, wondering where Shiro was. He decides that he doesn't care and watches TV, starting too many snacks. He can already hear it dinner is soon stop eating but man, he doesn't care. After tricking Veronica like that nothing can make him feel bad anymore. He doesn't know if this is good or bad.

So he watches news with some awesome and simple salt chips (because Shiro loves simple and with that, simple salt chips) and stops at news, he watches how there was a bomb attack not too far from where he lives, a single and alone perpetrator named Matthew Holt, already known and famous for terrorism, who the police can't quite catch, no matter what they do. Plus they are at the end of their wits because they have no idea how he can get his hands on this many bombs to do this many terrorist attacks. He builds them himself, obviously. Maybe he even dug out the materials himself. Like 100% homemade bombs.

Maybe he should be terrified by his lack of empathy as the news lady reports in how many people have been hurt or even died - but he had never met those people ever before. Probably. This won't affect him in any way, and because of that, he has trouble connecting the number they say in the news with his own life, his emotions. _Maybe a lot of people have trouble with that as well_ , he thinks. He tells his mind to shut up about Veronica.

Honestly, he is a bit terrified because of his lack of thought. His lack of empathy. Ever since he met Shiro, he has thrown everything he'd accepted as normal out the window, every day confronted with some new crazy thing which he just takes. Just like that, no questioning. And he is so freezingly calm, so calm it's creepy. And he thinks _am I really me right now_ because the _normal_ Adam he knew would've been scared at a bomb attack this close and felt empathy for the victims, he would've had been guilty about lying to Veronica about Lance, his true intentions, hell, he would've felt guilty about having to _kill_ Lance in the first place. And he should freak out about Shiro and _what the fuck_ his life has become. But he doesn't. A thought crossed his mind _have I always been like this? Weird? Not normal?_

And the more he thinks about it, the less sense everything makes and that's a pain so hey, Adam goes with his usual routine. Fuck it. He shortly thinks how this attitude got him in this mess in the first place but man, it's so much easier munching chips and watching TV and not caring about anything in the world - and Adam thinks _maybe that's okay_. He doesn't have to be normal, he tells himself. Who cares about being weird or when it started, it's here now and he can't change it, might as well embrace it! Hell yeah!

He continues to watch TV for another 45 minutes before Shiro finally enters his - their - apartment, Adam is ready for the _dinner is soon_ speech, but it never comes. Instead, Shiro throws him a serious glance and says, “We'll meet someone, get ready.” 

\---

Lance twirls the Bayard in his hands. It forms a gun at his command. _The gun he attacked Adam with._ He focuses as Keith told him to. The Bayard changes - it forms a sniper rifle. _The rifle he will use to shoot Adam with._

Going into hiding with Keith was boring at first but Lance quickly realized that this was an opportunity. An opportunity to train so he won't disappoint next time they have to combat against a god and their partner. He doesn't want to disappoint, he doesn't want to be useless. So he trains. He lets Keith tell him everything about Bayards and focuses, trains to aim, trains to stop hesitating, trains to be useful. He only stops when Keith comes around to bring food or he passes out.

And Lance is sure _next time we fight, I won't miss. I won't disappoint Keith. I'll be useful._

Keith is telling him to rest sometime because he looks like shit and ready to pass out. He tells him to be rested and at his best when they move out for an attack in a few hours. Lance laughs _but he really does feel like shit_ and waves him off, but then totally proving Keith's point by nearly passing out. Keith sighs as he catches his partner before he can hit the ground.

“Rest,” Keith says, then lowering Lance to the ground, placing his head on his own lap. “I need you to be useful.” Lance blinks up at him twice and then nods as his eyes flutter shut, only half a second passing before he's fast asleep, snoring lightly.

And Keith watches him, a slightly pained expression on his face and he whispers , “sorry I hit you, I was just angry, I wanted to win, I didn't mean to hurt you…”

And they stay like that until Keith wakes Lance, _it's time to move out._

\---

“Hello, Hunk.” 

Adam thinks back to the description Shiro gave him - and he was right, this man is a literal hunk. He's big, sun-tanned, had dark hair. Only those golden eyes Shiro had talked about were more like an eerie yellow to him. Maybe it's just because he was nervous and scared.

“Shiro. You look good. How have you been holding up?”

Shiro had told him to stay back for a bit. Apparently, he and another god want to strike up a deal to fight against Keith's alliance. The partner reveal (sounds way more exciting than it will be) will only happen once they are finished making out the details and that kind of stuff.

They were meeting in an office building in the next city over ( _not funny,_ Adam thinks) in the middle of the city, on the 34th floor, Hunk and Shiro sitting facing to each other on tables, left to them a pastel wall, right to them a glass wall, the partners staying in the next room behind their god, able to listen through the door. Adam thinks that meeting as fancy like this isn't secretive at all.

“Keith nearly killed my partner and I got attacked by normies, so I've been fine. How about you?”

Are they really making small talk right now? 

“My partner and I managed to stay hidden from Keith, Allura or Pidge. And you too, I guess. I've been trying to stay out of combat because I hate fighting. But of course, if Keith would know how my partner looks then I would be unable to stay out of combat as well.”

Shiro nods. “You know I need help against him, Hunk. He's already gotten Pidge as an ally. I can't deal with them both.”

Hunk looks like he's contemplating for a moment. “You know how Keith's partner looks, right? What his name is, all that kind of stuff?”

Shiro nods again. “Yes. I'll share that information with you if we team up, then we hunt Keith's partner down. If you want to, we can work together against Pidge and Allura as well. But I don't have any clues regarding them.”

“I'd like to have Keith out of the game…” Hunk admits, guilty expression. Adam thinks about how an almighty god that participates in a killing game has more sympathy than he might have. It feels a bit weird.

“But I feel bad. Teaming up on Keith like that.”

“You don't need to feel bad. We're only doing this because Keith started it. Plus there are no rules against alliances.”

Hunk sighs. He closes his eyes, seemingly thinking hard about what he should do. “I want to have Keith out of the game no matter what. I don't want him to win and get the power over humanity. I don't want to imagine what chaos there will be. I can also say the same thing about Pidge and Allura. If anyone but me should win, it should be you, Shiro. I trust you the most. So if I want to make an alliance, there is no better partner than you.”

Shiro looks hopeful. This Keith-Pidge-Alliance must be pretty powerful or else he wouldn't have to be so desperate about a partner.

“Okay, Shiro, let's partner up. You and I will go against Keith first, then Pidge, then Allura. We'll kill each other last.”

“You're the best Hunk.”

They stand up and give each other their hands in a firm handshake. Adam wonders if it already is partner reveal time.

“Okay Hunk, Keith's partner?” They go back to the sitting arrangement they had before. Hunk nods seriously. “His name is Lance. Lance McClain. He is a Cuban man around his twenties, darker skin than me but lighter than yours. His hair is chocolate brown and his eyes are blue - even without Keith's influence they are. He is rather thin, no muscles, long limbs, that type of guy. His Bayard transforms into a gun.”

Hunk looks thoughtful. “Doesn't sound like the type of partner Keith would choose. Keith would choose the strongest partner there is, like strongest physically, right?”

Shiro shrugs. “Believe me, I was confused myself the first time I saw him. I thought he was just a normie, but then he got his Bayard out. He shot at us. And Keith protected him from harm. There's no mistaking it, Lance McClain is his partner. Even though we didn't manage to make him bleed, so I can't attack him.”

“So my partner or your partner have to find that Lance guy, make him bleed so that we can attack him. And then one of us keeps Keith off while the other kills Lance. If Pidge comes to aid him, we should retreat immediately. Maybe one of us can stay back to gather intel about Pidge’s partner. But our partners must go away from Pidge as far as possible.”

Shiro agrees with a murmur. They trade other plans to kill Keith's partner - and Adam just stays there and listens to them making plans for murder because hey, they're gods, who cares, right? He wonders if Hunk's partner feels like this. 

“Anyway, I can help to protect your partner if I know how they look,” Shiro says. Hunks agrees.

They both call in their partner. Adam enters with a sigh. From the other side of the room, a woman enters. She's quite tall and bulky, a bit similar to Hunk in that matter, not quite the beauty standard, but beautiful nonetheless. Her brown hair is cut short, just reaching over the middle of her ears, some strands of hair falling into her face. She wears big, loopy earrings and clothes that look slightly big for her, but she makes it work. Her lips are full and her eyes honey-brown, her skin not sun-tanned, but also not pale. If Adam had to describe it with a color, he'd pick “golden”.

“Hello,” she says, smiling kindly. Adam smiles back because that's the polite thing to do. He doesn't think he's ever faked this many smiles in this short amount of time.

“Hello.” He throws a glance at Shiro, who nods. “My name is Adam. And my blood is black.” Adam throws out his arm, offering a handshake.

The woman chuckles a bit and accepts it. “My name is Shay. I bleed yellow,” she mocks Adam a bit, Hunk laughing as he tells her off.

“I apologize for her.” Shay also laughs and pushes Hunk a bit, he in turn pushing back. And Adam thinks _hey that's a woman and her god and they look like the cutest and most innocent couple on the planet. Is it even allowed for a human to date a god? Is it even allowed for a god to date a human?_

Well screw if it is allowed, Hunk and Shay are openly holding hands and whispering to each other, blushing. She even presses a kiss to the others cheek. Shiro looks a bit concerned. Or maybe disgusted? Adam can't really tell. “Are you...ahem...as humans would say...dating her?”

That was the most awkward way to ask someone about their relationship ever, Shiro.

“I like her a lot,” Hunk admits. “It wasn't planned, of course...I made her my partner, hung out, realized how great she was and totally fell heads over heels for her. I want to protect her. That's one more reason I wanted an ally like you.” Shiro looks troubled. But Shay interjects before he can say a thing. 

“I know what you're thinking. He's a god, I'm a human, this is not going to last. But we don't care. We want to spend as much time together as possible, just be with each other. I like him a lot. He likes me a lot. We'll make it work.”

“Well, if you say so… Hunk, buddy, let's talk over here, right?” Shiro drags his fellow god over to the far right corner, closer to the glass. Shay meanwhile decides to walk closer to him.

“What do you think, Adam? What we're doing isn't wrong, right?” Adam doesn't know how to answer and he doesn't want to think about it as well. So he just shrugs. Shay sighs.

“So how is the relationship between you and Shiro? Do you guys get alo-”

The window shatters. Glass flies everywhere, Shiro and Hunk scrambling away from it to avoid any injuries. They shout something. Adam can't hear, he looks ahead.

 _Yellow_ , he thinks. He thinks about things that are yellow.

Butter.

Cheese.

Buttercup.

Lemon.

Banana.

Daffodil.

Blood.

Yellow blood splashed against the pastel walls of the room they were in. Shay's face frozen in a forever awkward smile when she asked him about his relationship with Shiro.

A clean shot, right through her head.

She's dead.

 _Oh shit,_ Adam thinks.

\---

A clean shot, right through her head. Lance holds his sniper rifle, a slight smirk tugging on his lips. He got one of them.

“Nice shot,” Keith says and he doesn't see how happy his praise makes Lance, how his face brightens, how eager he is to get the second shot on Adam for more of Keith's praise. He starts aiming.

 _I won't be useless to Keith,_ Lance swears. _I can't disappoint Keith, I won't._

His rifle finds Adam, who's still frozen in shock from what just happened right in front of him.

_After all…_

He pulls the trigger, zero hesitation.

_He gave me a reason to live._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 and someone is dead. I'm sorry...? AND Huzzah for Adam's confusing thoughts (whenever I write _AND HE THINKS..._ I get super giddy because I get to write the weirdest things!!)! And the most shortlived team EVER.
> 
> Also, whoever guessed that Hunk would be eliminated first (lookin' at you, QueenBookworm): Congrats! You were right.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. HEAVEN: Sinn/Mut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith gave Lance a reason to live. Shiro fights a lost battle. Adam makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HOPE EVERYONE IS READY FOR SOME LANGST BBY (Lance is my favorite so he gets all the shit)
> 
> Warning: Suicide Attempt. Skip to _'Shiro is mouthing words at him.'_ if you don't wanna read that. ALSO, there's blood and technically some character death (but not really). 
> 
> Can I still ask you to enjoy...? ENJOY!

Lance doesn't know what started it, exactly. He thinks about it often - was it because his grades were crappier than he wanted them to be? Was it because all of his older siblings did better than him, were more respected than him? Or was it because people liked to dote on his younger sibling so much more? Because it seemed like they were loved? Was it because he was the black sheep of the family, not good at anything, not achieving anything? The one everyone just waved off because he was a goofball, not ever taking anything seriously? Was it even because of his family?

Or was it because of his lacking social life, no true friends, as no one saw a reason to be friends with him apparently, obnoxious and annoying, always talking, never serious, not a single thing about himself he'd call beautiful or handsome. Too thin, too long of a face, too pointy chin and nose, too long limbs, too tall, no muscles or something like that, eyes and hair too plain. He never had a lover for same reasons, he thinks. There were people he liked, of course, but they didn't like him back, not even once. They liked someone else or just weren't interested. It didn't matter when, middle school, high school, boring office job that he never wanted.

Maybe that's it, actually. He never got to be a pilot, like he wanted. He doesn't even remember the exact reason (that's what he kept telling himself even though he knew that he's just not good enough, never good enough) but after he failed the selection process every person he knew, some kinder than the other, told him he's never going to fly, he was going to fail over and over. He was so upset he quit on the spot. And now he was working some boring job with boring people and his crushes still didn't like him back.

But hey, maybe it was a combination of those things. He felt like he was a disappointment to his family, never as successful as his older siblings, not as lovable as his younger siblings. He'll never have someone who loves him as much as he loves them, his personality too obnoxious and his looks too plain. His dream will never come true and his future will always be something he never wanted. All of those things building a heavy cluster he can't carry and black bile which always makes him sick from the inside, no matter how much of it he got out.

Point is, Lance felt sad, always sad. And he can't exactly pinpoint why. Sometimes it's just everything, everything feels sluggish and heavy and he doesn't want to do anything anymore.

He also doesn't know when it started, either. Just somewhere between his happy childhood and his shitty adulthood everything he loved about life got pulled away from him, like a rug he was standing on, just that he didn't land on his butt and started laughing while he stood up, there was no ground and he fell and continued falling, he's still falling now.

He acts happy (but he is so, so sad) and tries to be friends with everyone at work (even though he knows they only talk to him because that's polite, who would want to be friends with him, right?). He ignores the question gnawing at his mind ( _why why why_ ), tries to slot in, tries to belong, tries to be normal (but he doesn't belong, he's weird in a bad way, nobody would miss him, he's a big failure, he can't achieve anything, even if he didn't exist there would be no difference), he tries so goddamn hard. But he's tired, so tired.

Maybe he just doesn't belong and he can't change that.

Without Lance really wanting that, that thought worms itself into his head more and more often. When it's silent at work, when he's trying to sleep when he's out by himself. He tried to deny it, but every day ever since the thought first popped into his head, he realizes how much truth really lies in those. Because now he's paying attention to it, trying to pick up any sign that proves he belongs, that prove the voice inside his head wrong, but instead, he finds proof for the opposite. 

He doesn't belong.

And he's so tired of trying.

Tired of acting happy for a sake he can't even quite remember, tired of trying his best in a job he never wanted, tired of hearing his family's nagging for a girlfriend or the jokes on his expenses (Hey Lance, Veronica is a total _Überflieger_ in comparison to you! That's German for achiever!), tired of being rejected, a reject, a failure, so, so tired. He wants to leave and find a place where he belongs. At first, one evening, he had traveled a bit by train, looking into the next city, and the next one after that. He tried to feel if this was maybe where he belonged, but after running around in four cities and discovering that they all in fact where the same as the one he tried to flee from, he gave up. Just like that.

The last city he visited last had a beautiful viewing platform. It was on a cliff in the forest nearby, with a good view on the city and nightlife, a single and small fence that's supposed to stop people from falling separating earth and air.

Lance didn't even think. He acted on pure instinct. Before he even knew, he stood on the small fence, gazing over the city, then closing his eyes. One more step and he would fall - to his death for certain, considering how far away the ground was.

And Lance took that step.

And it felt freeing. All of his doubt, his thoughts, flew away. And he thought _maybe this isn't so bad._

But his fall was stopped. His eyes snapped open, staring back at a male about his age, shoulder length, black hair, blue eyes, mouth turned into a frown, squeezed underneath the fence, holding his wrist to stop him from falling.

“You fucking idiot! What do you think you're doing?”

Lance can just stare back at him. “Come on, take my hand!” He holds out his other hand and again, Lance does nothing but acts on instincts. He doesn't think. He takes the hand.

And immediately, his vision is filled with blue. He was able to hear the other cursing but didn't really listen. He can only see blue, like the ocean he loved so much as a kid, like his first lion plushie he loved, like his favorite shirt, like the sky on great days, like the stranger's eyes, like his own eyes.

And instead of doubts, his mind is filled with a single name only. _Keith._

\---

Shiro is mouthing words at him. He looks panicked and is running towards him in a frenzy, seemingly in slow mow. _Get down! Right now!_ So that's what he's saying. Adam silently thanks his brain for translating the mouth movements. _Duck! Adam!_

Adam does. He ducks, now being able to crawl under the table if he wanted to. And just in the nick of time as well - he can see a bullet slamming right into the wall behind him, just where his head had been just a second ago.

“Let's get out of here! They have an easy shot on us!” Suddenly, Shiro is next to him. He takes his hand and drags him out of the room, leaving desperate shouts and wailing behind. At this time, the building is deserted, luckily, no people questioning, blocking their way, no annoying noises, screams.

They reach the foyer without problems. Shiro reaches for the door but suddenly seems to change his mind as he pulled both of them back with gritted teeth. Again, with perfect timing. The entire foyer is seeable from the outside, all glass. Adam wonders why you would use this much glass. It's so easy to shatter. Or so Keith seems to think, shattering all of it as he jumps inside the foyer with Lance cradled in his arms - he's carrying him like a _princess_ , man Adam would have laughed in any other situation but this princess has two guns and those two guns are pointed at Shiro and him - and the latter opens fire, with no hesitation.

Adam tries to seek cover behind Shiro, but a shot narrowly strikes over the god's shoulder and grazes his cheek - and Adam knows that this is one of the worst scenarios that could have come true. Sadly, after a month of complete silence, this was also the likeliest thing to happen.

Lance was good with a gun.

The last time they fought, Lance had fired blindly and was sometimes hesitating to get the final hit on him or Shiro. Now he aims with cold precision and is ready to kill.

And he also isn't scared to hit Keith anymore. His partner ran right into his now incredibly precise bullet hail (he wasn't hit by one, not even grazed!) to attack Shiro, who still had to cover him. “Reception!” Shiro yells and with a combined effort, they manage to reach it while blocking sword strikes and endless bullets, Adam quickly climbing behind the counter for cover. “You stay! I can take them both!”

Adam knows it's a lie. But he also knows that he'd barely be a help anyway. Training with Shiro hadn't really gotten them anywhere, and he's never used his Bayard before - ever. 

He tries activating it with the force of his mind alone. ...Well, of course, it didn't work. 

Shiro is in a bad situation. Just like the first time they faced the deadly duo, only that their weak link had stepped up by a margin. While Adam and Shiro were still about the same strength. Which means Shiro's strength, that couldn't really rise anymore (at least not when he's by himself).

He remembers what Shiro has told him one time, _Keith and I are roughly the same strength_ , he had said.

And because they are the same strength, usually, their fight would drag on forever, as they just wouldn't be able to outclass each other. But because of Lance's presence, the scales just tipped into Keith's favor - no matter how weak he is, how light he is, just the smallest bit could be enough to tip the scale.

And that's when Adam realized that it's not about who's the strongest gods out there. It was about who picked the strongest partner. 

Because they'll always be the same strength, they'd have to rely on their partner to make a difference. And whoever picked the stronger partner had more weight on the scale, so to say.

And right now, Lance definitely put on more weight on that scale.

One could compare Adam to a feather and him to the Grand Canyon, that's how big the difference is.

Plus, Shiro couldn't even attack Lance, who liked the backline more with his gun anyway. _A god can't attack a human unless they have seen their blood color already._ Shiro had never seen Lance bleed, but Keith had witnessed Adam's black blood. Another disadvantage.

And Adam realizes that if they want to win, he'd have to make Lance bleed at least. Then, they could target Lance for attacks, who isn't good in close combat (or so Adam assumed) and busy Keith with protecting him. That would put them in a good situation. One where they had control.

He hears Shiro scream - Keith managed to slash his left arm open, limp and covered in black now. Lance had also managed to hit a few bullets past Shiro's weapon into his shoulder, the wounds easily seeable because of the black spots on his shirt. Adam winces innerly, because that certainly looks painful.

Gripping his Bayard tighter, Adam tries to think of something, anything to help Shiro. Because he'll die if he won't think of anything. And he doesn't want to die. He thinks but

_Shiro on his (their) couch, loitering around, eyes lighting up when he enter the living room. Adam's (Their) cat is sleeping in his lap, seemingly comfortable with the new presence in their apartment. Adam is a bit upset because it took the cat a month to open up to him but he doesn't show. “Good morning,” Shiro says._

_“Mornin’,” Adam answers. He plops down next to the god on the couch, and Shiro starts talking about stupid god things (he's surprisingly klutzy sometimes, forgets important things and makes the world pay - at least he wasn't at fault with the nuclear weapons, apparently, that was Keith's fault), Adam sometimes nodding and telling his input to the stories, then they swap and Adam will tell him stories about his own life before the god thing happened (like how he barely sees his family who're in another country - he doesn't tell that he's lonely, but Shiro notices) and they just talk and sit together on the couch. When Shiro stands up to make food, Adam moves to the counter and they continue talking. They only part when it's late and time to go to sleep again, so Adam moves back to his room, leaving Shiro to do whatever (because he technically didn't need to sleep) and the next morning, when he woke up, they'd do the same, just talking. But sometimes, Shiro wasn't there because he was scouting or something like that. And Adam always feels a bit disappointed when he wakes up and there's no one on his (their) couch and he proceeds to be bored the entire day. And his cat seemingly hates him now, because there's a Shiro._

He thinks but

_Shiro watching bad movies with him on some evenings where they didn't want to talk. They have finished eating and cleaning and now Shiro is picking out a movie from Adam's sadly small collection, seemingly fascinated by human movies._

_They have watched comedy before, Shiro always laughed at the wrong spots, laughing and chuckling and snorting at completely unfunny moments. Adam can only raise an eyebrow at him. Shiro always looked back at him somewhat sheepishly, and they both burst out laughing at that, never mind the movie._

_He had watched a tragedy before, Adam preparing tissues on the coffee table, which were not used because Adam wasn't one to cry in movies and Shiro didn't want to unless he did, so he held back with all his might, eyes glassy when the plot reached its climax. He managed, however, so the box of tissues still innocently sat there, not even touched._

_They had watched action movies before, but those seemed to interest Shiro the least. He always watched with a semi-bored expression, scoffed at plot points, rolled his eyes at the action scenes. Adam asked him about why once and Shiro had told him that he fought with the other gods his entire life so watching more fighting wasn't that exciting, especially because the reason they fight seems stupid in comparison to why the gods fight (like that one time Pidge and Keith fought over the end of World War II). He also didn't like the story because the plot seemed half-assed so there could be more action scenes, and he also didn't like the romance which apparently feels a bit forced sometimes._

_So Adam rolled his eyes and told him to watch romance movies if he wanted romance to be better._

_And today, Shiro picks a romance movie Adam doesn't even remember he has and jumps on the couch next to his partner, leaning into him as he draped a blanket above both of them. The movie starts and Shiro is watching intently but Adam thinks about the warm arm next to his and travels down with his fingers, finally making out the other's hand._

_And he takes it in his own._

_He doesn't even know why he just wants to. And Shiro doesn't even comment on it, just laughing at a random scene - this wasn't even a love comedy - so he keeps doing it. And he smiles at the god, who chooses this moment to turn around to look at him (and Adam realizes they're pretty much cuddling on their couch under the same blanket and he's holding Shiro's hand and he smiled at him randomly laughing) and Shiro says, “You’re smiling, that scene just now was funny wasn't it?” and Adam can't help but to smile a bit wider and nod and Shiro looks so happy about that. Adam doesn't let go of the hand for the rest of the movie night. And the next time they sit down, Shiro just takes his and Adam doesn't protest. It becomes a thing between them._

He thinks but

_Shiro trying to cook something new and asking him how it tastes, in the plain black apron Adam has bought but never used._

_He tries it. It's good. “Can't you say anything but ‘it's good?’ I was really happy when you first called my food good, but I didn't know you just called all food good!” Shiro says, huffing._

_“I do not. It's just good!” Adam says back defensively, raising an eyebrow at a glaring Shiro._

_“You're so bad with words,” Shiro says and Adam makes an offended noise._

_“Rude! I'll let you know that I have the best way with words in my office. I am the king of liars!” Shiro chuckles. At that, Adam's glare also softened and slowly turned into a smile._

He thinks and it hits him. It hits him like a truck speeding down the highway, doing 2000 miles per hour. He cares.

He _cares_. He cares so, so much.

He doesn't want this to end. He wants to continue spending time with Shiro. He wants to stay alive. He has to kill Lance.

And Adam thinks about Veronica and how sad she will be if he will he kill her little brother. _I'm his co-worker and care about him as well my ass._

But he thinks about Shiro, talking to him, eating with him, their hands joined under the warm blanket when they watch movies.

And he makes a decision.

A plan? Adam can't think of one. He doesn't have any time anymore anyway. He can hear the sounds of the clashing blades, the constant sound of Lance's gun firing, the sound of blood dripping to the ground (Adam didn't even need to look to know who's that was) and battle cries (Keith), occasional tsking (Lance) and groans of pain (Shiro). He has to do something now.

Still gripping his useless, untransformed Bayard, he peeks over the counter. Shiro is fighting a lost battle. He is panting heavily, one of his arms transformed into blades, the other still looks limp. Across of him stands Keith, sword in his hand, eyes gleaming. Diagonally left behind Keith was Lance, both arms armed with a gun, focused on Shiro.

Alright. Adam will make Lance bleed, even if he has to do it with bare hands. Taking all of the courage in his body, he takes a deep breath - and leaps right over the counter.

Keith's eyes widen at his boldness. So do Shiro's who also makes a sound of protest. And then, everything happens at once.

“Lance!”

“I got it, Keith!” 

“Stop Keith, Shiro!”

“What…?!”

“Trust me!”

Shiro does. When Keith tries to lunge at him, Shiro blocks his way and attacks him, forcing Keith into a fight with him. Lance's focus shifted away from Shiro as well, so Keith has a way harder time against his fellow god, even though he is wounded.

Lance's attention is on Adam. Adam doesn't think he can dodge a bullet his former co-worker fires, much less all of them. He has to get to Lance before he can even fire. So he runs like he's never run in his life, charging with his untransformed Bayard, a desperate shout coming from his lips. Lance fires his first shot.

Adam looks death in the eye. He can faintly hear Shiro shouting for him, but he is so high on adrenaline he doesn't even care. He just keeps running. Lance fires his second shot. Adam keeps running. His Bayard is a shield big enough for him to his entire body behind.

Distantly, he recognizes that that is why Lance didn't hit him yet, but he decides that's something he can think about later.

“Lance! Move damnit!”

Adam is so close. He's holding a naginata - hey, his Bayard transformed - and he strikes. Sadly, exactly in that moment, Lance takes Keith's advice - he tries to move farther away from Adam, who is inexperienced with this unfamiliar weapon. He had seen it sometimes, but he had never held something like this and as a consequence, his strike is way off and inefficient. 

Lance avoids a lethal hit. The Naginata slams down on the ground with its sharp side, leaving a mark on the ground. But all Adam stares at is his enemy's cheek. The cheek that is currently died blue in blood. Adam did it, he grazed him.

And before he can even call for his partner, Shiro is there, arm blade threateningly raised above Lance's head, who shrieks before throwing himself to the right, the blade missing him by an inch. Keith shouts something. Lance is lying on the ground, his Bayard buried under his body, struggling to stand up. He can't dodge again. Shiro raises his weapon once more.

And swings it down.

Keith rams his blade up. Right into Shiro's throat. Shiro pierces Keith's chest. Adam doesn't quite know what happened, but Keith is blocking for Lance. He was just suddenly there. And now, they just stare each other down with eyes full of hatred before they both collapse, seemingly dead. Both blue and black blood stain the entire foyer.

Lance has gotten himself up by now, pointing his gun at Adam. Adam just activates his shield again.

If a god “dies” (Shiro did quotation marks with his hands when he explained) they are out for exactly 10 minutes. It's like fainting for them. Like a stun in video games. But Shiro still looks so lifeless, Adam actually holds his breath. Lance does the same.

It is a stalemate between them. It doesn't matter how good Lance is, he can't shoot through the shield. He has to approach. But then Adam would switch over to his Naginata and Lance also sucks at close combat, so there would be a chance to die. A chance he doesn't want to take, apparently. But Adam also doesn't want to approach because he is not only inexperienced with his weapon but inexperienced in fighting general. Using his Naginata made him unable to use the shield, which also makes him prone to Lance's attacks. The risk is too high. Ramming Lance with his shield or anything like that is risky as well because if Lance dodges, Adam would be completely exposed. And the probability of that happening is relatively high, as Lance is faster and way more slippery than he would ever be.

They stare each other down. A silent agreement between them. Adam moves first. He approaches their gods with his shield up and rips Keith's weapon out of Shiro's throat, letting the blue god fall to the ground. Then he backs off, dragging Shiro along. Lance then went over to pick up Keith and carries him out of the foyer - like a _princess_ \- looking right back at Adam one last time before disappearing into the night. Adam stares after him until Shiro wakes up. Because he can't carry Shiro home. He's too heavy.

While he waits, he wonders if he should've attacked Lance when he was carrying Keith, as he had both of his arms busied and was also slower to the extra weight. He wonders if Lance would have hesitated to throw his partner to the ground to reach the stalemate they had again. _Damn,_ Adam thinks, _I should've tested that._

And then Shiro opens his eyes, staring into Adam's face for a good minute until the memories of what happened come rushing back and he jolts up, looking around wildly.

“Keith…?” He croaks, Adam wondering if there was something wrong with his throat. Keith had literally stabbed through it after all.

“He's fled with Lance. We're good.”

Pure relief flashes Shiro's face. “We did it. We lived.” He looks at Adam with a fond smile, searching for his hand. Adam gives it to him, squeezing the god’s hand slightly. “You were amazing,” Shiro whispers. Adam smiles. 

They both stand up, shakily, and they slowly leave the office building, still holding the other's hand. The city is surprisingly silent for once. It's almost eerie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and then Hunk was pissy for the next month because both Keith and Shiro had both left the scene without cleaning up the mess they made so he had to do it all alone. ANYWAY,
> 
> _Überflieger_ is a German word for archiver, but if you separate it in Über and Flieger and translate it word for word it's Above and Flyer. So it's a double jab at Lance because not only did they call him unsuccessful, but also hinted at him failing flying school (which I don't have a clue of DON'T JUDGE ME)
> 
> Naginata is a Japanese weapon and looks like a knife on a long stick. Kind of like a spear but formed differently. I can't explain it well, if you're really curious you could look it up.
> 
> ALSO, I suck at describing emotions. AHEM. But I did try to step up my Metaphor game. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. HELL: Abhängigkeit/Minderwertigkeit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance tries to help Keith. Keith explains the gods' origin. They bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just let me say that I wanted to introduce Lotor in this chapter to move on with the plot, but then I just kept writing and it became 4,400 words of pure Klance because apparently, I'M TRASH FOR THIS PAIRING.
> 
> Also, this chapter has been done for days, but I was worried that it was too cheesy and wanted my sister to read it and tell me if I should change it. She never got around to do it and told me that Klance can't ever be too cheesy, so now I'm just like ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Enjoy! (But seriously, tell me if it's too cheesy-)
> 
> WARNINGS for suicide attempt mention!

1\. e4 e5  
2\. Nf3 Nc6 

_“You’re boring.”_

_“You started with the boring one, though.”_

_Their fingers move quickly as they play a standard opening, one of them rolling his eyes. He wonders why he keeps playing Chess with the others when it bores him this much._

3\. Bb5 Nf6  
4\. Nc3 d6  
5\. 0-0 Bg4  
6\. h3 Bh5  
7\. d3 Be7  
8\. Nd5 a6 

_He decides he wants to be the first to make a difference. He kicks her piece off the board with his own, making her raise an eyebrow. She just takes her piece back. He then moves his knight out of the way as it is attacked._

9\. Bxc6+ xc6  
10\. Ne3 d5 

_“How did you manage to make him believe you?” He suddenly asks, the other glancing up at him. “Everyone knows better than to trust you. So why did he arrange the meeting?’_

_She shrugs. “I just told him. He didn't trust me, but it wormed itself into his brain. He wanted to be on the safe side. Honestly, I knew he'd do that. He's too careful for his own good. So I didn't bother trying to dish up a fancy lie.”_

11\. g4 xe4 

_He glares at her move. “We got him really good, huh.”_

_“Well, yes. I wish you would've eliminated Shiro and not Hunk, though. Shiro us more of a threat.”_

_He bristles. “I planned on getting both.”_

_“But you failed to. And now Shiro is able to attack your partner. Your advantage is forever gone.”_

_“Shut it and play chess!”_

12\. Nxc5 Nxg4 

_His eyes widen as she sacrificed her piece, trading a knight against a pawn. “What…? Why?”_

_“I have a better time attacking your king now,” she points at his king on the white kingside, completely exposed as no pawns were left to protect him. “Moving the pawns that protected your king this far up is stupid.”_

_“Sometimes you just gotta go for it,” he grumbles and takes her piece._

13\. xg4 Qd6  
14\. d4 Bg6  
15\. Nf5 Bxf5 

_“Hunk thinks Shiro was with you and tricked him. And that you wanted to betray him and that's why you fought. He's really mad at Shiro right now.”_

_He sneers. “That's stupid.”_

_“Yes,” she agrees, “they were both tricked. I had to have Shiro meet with Hunk, not Pidge. Otherwise following Shiro to expose the other's partner would be futile, Pidge is too smart to fall for something like that.”_

_There was a non-committal hum from the other. “But finding a loophole in my rule like this is so like you.”_

_She laughs. “You said we can't follow the god to find out his partner. Never said we can't follow a god around to find out another god's partner.”_

_“Talking about rules...Shiro threw his stupid arm blade at my partner even before he bled. Isn't that against the rules?”_

_She shrugs. “Guess Shiro is a cheater. Or he'll find some loophole as I did. He was just defending himself or he didn't mean to hit him, it didn't mean to be an attack, whatever.”_

_“I want a lawyer right now.”_

16\. xf5 f6  
17\. Nc4 Qd7  
18\. Ne3 g6  
19\. c3 xf5 

_She raises her eyebrow. “You do realize that you just gave me an open line against your king?”_

_He grumbles and glares at the board, positively seething._

20\. Qh5+ Kd8  
21\. Qxf5 Rg8+  
22\. Kh1 Qe8  
23\. Bd2 Rg5 

_“That move was useless. What do you want to accomplish with that?”_

_“Shut up! I'll win, I still have a piece more than you do.” While she sometimes stopped to think about the situation, he quickly moves his pieces after she did, tapping his foot when he got impatient. She rolled her eyes at that._

24\. Qf4 Qh5+  
25\. Qh2 Qf3+  
26\. Nh2 Rh5 

_“Shit!” He shouts, jumping out of his chair. He lost his queen, the most important piece on the field. Now the fact that he had a piece more didn't make any difference._

_She smiles as her rook shackled his queen to his king, making her unable to move and doomed._

27\. Qxh5 Qxh5 

_He angrily kicks the enemy rook from the field, his queen then lost to the black queen._

28\. Kh1 Bd6  
29\. Bf4 Bxf4 

_“Why are you trading your pieces? I have a queen and you don't.”_

_“Just shut up!”_

30\. Nxf4 Qg4+  
31\. Ng2 Kd7 

_As she was getting ready to attack with her second rook, he suddenly just swirls around and leaves. “Screw it! I don't wanna play with you anymore!”_

_“You're giving up?” She calls after him, but he she only hears a growl as an answer._

_“Our alliance is off now, by the way!”_

_Again, he doesn't answer as he disappeared._

\---

Exactly ten minutes after Shiro had stabbed him through the chest, Keith had jolted awake, still in Lance's arms, his mind still muddled and confused. His instincts had screamed however, someone was carrying him, their hands felt unfamiliar (no one's arms were ever familiar to him), so he tried to wriggle out of their grasp, his limbs flailing around in panic. “Calm down, it's me, Lance!”

And Keith's eyes finally refocus enough to acknowledge the dark-skinned man carrying him, eyes shining in worry. They aren't at the building they fought Shiro in anymore, rather somewhere outside on the street, only the moon illuminating their way as all the street lanterns were off. The nightlife of the city was missing, almost suspiciously, just like the lights of any building in the street or maybe even the entire city.

Finally, he calmed down enough to jump off Lance's hold, standing on his two feet while crossing his arms (he wasn't shaking at all). Taking a few breaths just staring at the ground, he then looks up. “...Shiro,” he croaks, Lance looking back the way they came from. “He got away with his partner. I wasn't able to follow, so I decided to get you out of there before they could make a plan against us.”

Keith growls and starts walking ahead in a quick pace, eyes narrowed and lips pulled into a tight frown, ignoring Lance's scrambling as he followed suit. “Fuck. Fuck, I can't believe he got away again, I can't-”

An arm on his wrists stops him from pacing any further. Keith turns his head around to see Lance, looking at him with his worried expression again. They look at each other for a second, but once it is clear that Lance couldn't get a word out, he yanks his arm out of the other's grip and glares at him. “What?!” He shouts, making the others flinch.

“Uh,” Lance starts once he is able to blink again, “it's not just your fault. That Shiro escaped. We…” he looks thoughtful for a second. “We're a team, so it's _our_ fault. You don't have to carry the burden all alone.”

Keith is stunned into silence. He did not expect those words out of his partner's mouth. Lance seems to take that the wrong way, thinking Keith isn't understanding what he meant. “You know, a team? Partners for life? Keith and Lance, neck and neck? Wait, no,” he sounds confused for a second, “back to back, yeah, that's better. So cheer up, okay? We'll make it happen eventually-”

“Shut up!” Keith finally shouts once he broke out if his stupor. Lance's eyes widen. “What are you even talking about? Are you making fun of me? This your way of telling me how much weaker than Shiro I am that I can't beat him even though he was badly hurt?”

Lance blinks. “I didn't say anything like that,” he says slowly, at which Keith's eyes widen for a second before they turn into a ferocious glare, a huff escaping his lips as starts walking ahead again, a second passing before he can hear steps behind him again. “Keith! Keith wait! I didn't mean to make you angry or anything! I'm trying to help!”

“Help me with what? I don't need your help, human.”

While there still are hurried steps following him, there is a suspicious silence from his partner. It reminds Keith a bit from when he first picked Lance up and had dumped the whole god thing on him and how he shouldn't dare to die because then Keith would lose the game.

Lance had mostly stayed quiet, staring at him with wide eyes, but he didn't seem to be afraid or anything like that (of course, he didn't have anything to lose after all), he seemed … curious. When Keith got more into the explanation, so did a flicker of light in Lance's dull eyes. “You need me to stay alive,” he had whispered, then retreated completely into himself, staring straight ahead for a few hours, unresponsive to anything Keith said or did.

When he was about to throw the towel (he couldn't believe he picked a partner on accident, that thing shouldn't happen to people) Lance and blinked once, twice - then stood up and started talking. And he didn't stop. 

It was like a whole different person was standing right in front of him. He made stupid jokes, complained about anything and everything that happened prior to Keith and his eyes, his ocean blue eyes, always shined with a certain hope, his lips curled into a hesitant smile.

He followed Keith around like a puppy and hung on every word on his lips (it was especially bad in the first week after they'd met. Lance is really clingy if he wants to but after Keith snapped at him the other time, he had been trying his best to keep some distance). And he looked at Keith with such adoration and respect, it made him feel sick sometimes (Lance still does that. Keith pretends to not notice).

“Everyone needs help sometimes. It's okay if you do Keith.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “And why do you think you, of all people, can help a god like me?”

He can feel the shrugging behind him. “I don't think that, but I can try, right?”

Keith sighs and rolls his eyes again, walking even faster. He doesn't even know where he's going, but it doesn't matter - to both of them. Lance is just following, after all.

Finally understanding that Keith won't talk about whatever was going on in his head, Lance drops the topic and starts talking about trivial stuff (Have you ever tried ice cream? Or milkshakes? What do gods eat, anyway? Can gods be lactose-intolerant?) just keeping on talking, even when Keith doesn't answer, relaxing at the constant tone of the voice he got used to so much in the last month. 

“You calm now? Feeling better?” Keith makes a non-committal hum at Lance's question, begrudgingly admitting that Lance had managed to calm him down, to make him feel a little better inside his head (he wouldn't ever say this out loud). But Lance seems to realize anyway, chuckling a bit. Keith ignores it.

In front of them, a stone bridge comes into sight, leading over the river which flows through the city. The bridge was polished white and grey, the stones shining in the moonlight like gems, the water beneath it also glimmering like someone had thrown gold dust into it, rushing at a fast pace.

Keith didn't think anything bad of it - strolling towards it almost lazily - until Lance pushes past him and jumps on the one meter high and narrow railing, staggering a bit (Keith is deeply ashamed of the panicked and protesting noise that rose from his throat) until he found his balance, stretching both of his arms to the side, setting foot before foot, walking down the bridge this way.

Keith stands on the beginning of the bridge in stunned shock for half a second, then bolts after Lance, catching up to him fairly quickly, as Lance is walking slowly to keep his balance.

“What are you doing?!”

“I'm balancing on the bridge railing. Never did that?”

“...Okay, _why_ are you doing this?”

“Because why not? It's fun!”

Keith pinches the bridge of his nose, glaring up at the taller male. He gets a grin in return. “Because you could fall and hurt yourself or maybe even die and that would suck for my game. You need to be alive and healthy.”

The grin widens. “Are you _worried_ about me? How sweet!”

“What! I just said it would suck for my game…!” Keith splutters out, but Lance doesn't seem to hear as he looked ahead with a serene expression, the grin turning to a soft smile. “Also, I know you'd catch me if I fall.”

His words were barely a whisper above the sounds of the water, but Keith heard it. “You'd catch me, just like you did before.”

And at this moment, Keith remembers that this man had tried to jump of a viewing platform just about a month ago to end his own life. Same teasing, fun-loving, genuinely caring Lance. And he wonders _why? What happened that someone like this would try to die?_

So Keith admits that Lance can be a major annoyance with his constant talking, his stupid (but sometimes funny) jokes, his teasing (but that's just how he is and Keith doesn't really mind, one gets used to his overbearing personality if one tries enough). But he works so hard to be better (maybe a bit too hard), to get the approval he wants. He tries to help people, cares about them (Keith hit him that one time and never apologized for it, and he still cared enough to try to cheer him up). He's loyal, truthful (Keith trusts him, if Adam was his partner he wouldn't know if he would trust that man as well), contrary to popular beliefs really smart (“I don't like being called a nerd all day. Been there, done that. So I act a little dumber than I am, fit in, you know!”) and there was a slight tinge of confidence that he must've lost somewhere along the way but was still noticeable (“...at first I thought I could manage anything. I thought I was just good at stuff. But in the end, I failed at everything I ever touched. I'm sorry you have to call yourself my partner.”).

And Keith decides that _yes, Lance is annoying as shit but_

Dull eyes, looking up to him in surprise-

_He doesn't deserve whatever happened to him._

Keith's hand reaches for the still outstretched hand of his partner, holding onto it once he got it, squeezing it and not letting it go. He gets a raised eyebrow from Lance because of that.

“Just so you don't fall down!” Keith insists, growling. “Because if you really fell, it would be a such a pain to catch you. This is way easier.” 

Lance blinks twice, then starts chuckling, but it turns into an outright laugh soon. “Sure, whatever you say, big boy,” he gets out in a breath before continuing to laugh.

“I am a god!” Keith snarls at him, squeezing the other's hand so tightly Lance actually shrieks out of his laughter (Keith smirks at that). 

“Owww! Keeeeeiiith! I'm sorry!” Satisfied with this result, he let up, but still holds on to the other’s hand. Lance doesn't protest and they stroll down the bridge at a comfortable pace, next to each other.

“You're a good person, Keith,” Lance suddenly says, wistful look in his eyes, which were directed forward. “Which also makes to the best god. It doesn't matter what the other gods say, or what anyone says. You're amazing. Special.”

Keith nearly stops for a second, wondering about how Lance was able to hit the nail on the head about his insecurities without him ever telling anything about the other gods other than how they look (Keith is jealous of Shiro's calm head, his leadership. He's jealous of Hunk's kind and caring heart. He's jealous of Pidge’s genius and intelligence. He's jealous of Allura's elegance and beautifulness. He's jealous of all of them because he doesn't have such a thing going for him, he's just Keith who's hot-headed and makes all the wrong decisions. Who needs a god like him if they can have a god like Shiro?).

“Who needs a god-... Oh jeez, Keith.” Did he say that last part out loud? He didn't mean to do that. How embarrassing. Lance is looking at him but he avoids the other's eyes.

“Now you listen to me, Keith. I know it sounds hypocritical of me,” he laughs, but it's humorless. “There will always be a person who needs you. It doesn't even matter if you're needed as a god or something. That evening, the one who saved me wasn't Shiro. It was you.” Keith finally has the courage to look him into the eyes. Lance's gaze is serious, not pitying, but fierce. “I need you,” he declares, not stuttering, not holding back a laugh. “You gave me a reason to live again. You gave me a place to belong.” He can feel Lance's eyes boring into his. “I belong with you.”

And Keith actually stops this time, Lance also stopping. He looks a bit embarrassed but didn't make any motion to take anything back or declare everything as a joke.

And Keith breathes, once twice-

“I don't want you to fall,” Keith murmurs without even realizing it, and Lance raises his eyebrow once again. 

“Don't want me to fall?” Lance questions, his partner widening his eyes slightly as he realizes that he actually said that out loud. Lance smiles wickedly. “...You mean like this?”

And with those words, he throws himself from the railing, an unsuspecting and spluttering Keith being dragged down alongside him, still joined at their hands. But instead of the roaring tides of the wild river, Keith opens his eyes to soft grass and Lance's laughter - they had nearly crossed the bridge without noticing and Lance and jumped down only about a meter and a half not into the water, but on the riverside, covered from street to river in grass.

They roll along on the grass for a bit, Lance's laughter so contagious that Keith couldn't help but smile slightly, finally, their momentum lost and they stop rolling. Lance is hovering over Keith, smile wide and eyes shining. Keith thinks his breath stopped for a second. He just stares up and Lance stares down, for a second, a minute, maybe an eternity - but then he rolls off the other, flopping down on the grass next to the god, crossing his arms behind his head and they just look at the sky, stars and moon shining in the dark night.

“It's a pretty clear night for December,” Lance notices and Keith silently agrees. “Hey, do you know constellations, Keith? I always wanted to know about them but I just never got myself to inform myself. I wanted to, but never felt like it.”

Keith contemplates for a second before pointing his finger at the sky, Lance's eyes trained right on him. “The constellations that are the most popular and the easiest to spot are right here.”

There's shuffling as Lance lies down closer to the other, their heads underneath Keith's pointed finger, looking up together. “Where?” Lance asks, Keith tracing the constellation with his fingertips.

“Can you see it? There's the legs, the tail, the body and the head and finally the wings.” He traced the figure again as he listed off the things, and Lance's eyes shine in recognition. “That's the constellation of the Black Lion. If you look a bit to right,” he moves his finger, two pairs of eyes following it intently. “You can see the Green Lion. It's slimmer than the other lions and has a longer tail. Can you see it?”

Lance nods and Keith's finger moves to the left of the Black Lion. “This is the Red Lion. It looks like it's running, other than the others. The legs are stretched and the tail flying is the wind.”

“I see it,” Lance breathed out, smiling. Keith moves his finger down. 

“There's the Blue Lion. It has longer legs than the other lions and it looks like its jaws are open and it's roaring.”

“I see it, I see it,” Lance repeats, eyes wide and shining. Keith moves to the last constellation he knows, his finger finding itself under the Green Lion. 

“And finally, there we have the Yellow Lion. It's bigger than any of the other lions and has claws.”

Lance just nods. He looks a bit awestruck.

“It's all the constellations I know, Lance. There's a saying about those, though. Wanna hear it?” Lance nods again. “You know, how Black forms the head, Red and Green form the arms and Blue and Yellow the legs of Voltron. And Voltron was supposed to be the higher being under which everyone is born, the defender of your very soul.”

Lance chuckles. “Wouldn't that make you Voltron? You're god right?”

Keith sits up, not answering the question, Lance following suit after a groan, looking at his partner with a worried frown. “What's wrong?”

“You're right,” Keith answers, eyes focused on the sea of stars up in the sky. “I am Voltron. Well, I'm a part of it. Me and the other gods.”

He points at the constellations they were looking at.

“Voltron splits into those five constellations,” Keith says. “The Black Lion symbolizes leadership and levelheadedness. Those born under this constellation will climb their ranks and stand on the top. The Red Lion symbolizes temper and passion. If you're blessed by this part of Voltron, you will have the will to never give up and fight for anything that's important to you.” Keith's eyes shift for a bit.

“The Green Lion stands for curiousness and intelligence. Those who stand under the protection of this constellation may discover anything they seek, finding out truths with their intelligence. The Yellow Lion stands for love and care. The people with the Yellow Lion in their heart will be surrounded by people they love, loved by them as much as one loves them.”

Keith looks at Lance, who has been listening intently. “And finally, the Blue Lion. It stands for loyalty, trust, faith, and confidence. Those who follow this constellation are often the most reliable, most trusted and the backbone of any team or group. Of course, Voltron had all of those traits, but they feared that his humans would end up too perfect if they were modeled after them and with that, take the life out of it. As a consequence, they split. And five new gods, each representing a part of Voltron, were born, serving as a model for humanity. That's us.”

“Oh, so you're like a leg of Voltron or something?”

“I'm an arm,” Keith corrects. Lance snorts. “I am the Red Lion.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured by how you described the traits. But why are you the blue god, then?” Lance asks, making Keith roll his eyes.

“It's a stupid story. Allura, who is the Blue Lion, actually hates the color blue. It's really dumb. She insisted to have another color and because red was out of this game’s equation as red blood was normal human's blood, I just took over blue and she could choose her own color.”

Lance chuckles. “That sounds really stupid. Why would you hate your own color?”

“You don't have to tell me. 120 percent agree, I love red with all my heart.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, just staring at the stars, at Voltron. Keith doesn't know how long it lasts, but it feels like an eternity, a second and hours at the same time. “Hey Keith.” The silence is suddenly broken. Keith looked at Lance. “Hmm?” He hums, running over the grass with his hands. Lance stares down at his knees.

“So every human is born under a constellation of Voltron?” Keith nods. Lance's eyes look glassy in the moonlight.

“Keith, I'm not sure I'm born under any of these. I don't match any of the traits. God, is that why I'm such a mess? Have I been rejected by Voltron?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “You're being ridiculous. Of course you're born under a constellation. Everyone is.”

“But I don't match any…” Lance looks up to meet Keith's eyes. They look teary and Keith feels a slight pain at the other's expression. “I don't have leadership qualities or something like that, I give up way too easily and I'm not passionate, I'm not exceptionally smart and no one ever loved me as much as I loved them a-and, and I'm not trusted by anyone to do anything right!”

Keith sighs. “You're wrong. I can see the star under which you are born. Right in your eyes.” Lance's eyes shine in the ocean blue Keith had noticed about the other first. His lips are slightly parted as if he was thinking about something to say.

“The Blue Lion is protecting you, Lance.”

“But…” he still protests weakly, Keith groaning in exasperation. 

“No buts. If it makes it easier to believe...I trust you. I trust you, okay? And don't ever say that to anyone, but when you said that you needed me before, when you said that you felt like I gave you a place to belong, I was… really glad, okay. And I felt like I had done something right for the first time. By saving your life like this. And you know, I realized that it isn't just you who needs me I...I need you as well. Is that too cheesy? Oh gods…”

Keith wants to keep rambling, anything to get him out of that situation but

Lance's eyes glint, his lips curl into a soft smile-

“Okay,” he says. “We need each other. We belong with each other. You and me. Keith and Lance. Red and Blue.” And the way he lights up is positively blinding, eyes and teeth shining, reflections of the moonlight, as he lunged forward to trap Keith in a bearhug, face buried into the other's neck, refusing to let go even when his partner is spluttering and trying to pry him off (not with full force otherwise Keith could manage easily, but he does like being hugged, contrary to popular beliefs). “We need each other,” Lance whispers again and Keith nods, smiling slightly.

“But Keith,”

“What now.”

Lance loosens his grip a little to face his partner, grinning. “You’re god.”

Keith shrugs. “I am.”

“You could have any haircut that you wanted. So why a mullet?”

Keith actually reddens, eyes widening. “This is not a mullet!”

Lance chuckles, his fingers raking through some of the black hair of his partner. “Relax. I like your mullet. Even though it's so out.”

“It's not a mullet!” Keith repeats, aggravated. Laughter.

“Shhhh. Calm down, mullet.”

“Lance, I swear to god…”

"But you are god."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chess match at the beginning was a real match from my sister. Would've used one of my own, but I can't find them anymore. Also made up my own constellation because HELL YEA
> 
> Alright, stick around for three things:
> 
> 1\. If you paid any attention to the chapter titles, you might have noticed that odd chapter numbers are titled HEAVEN and then _positive German words_ and even chapter numbers HELL and _negative German words_. And this will be the question: Will it end in Hell? Or Heaven? Tell me your guesses!
> 
> 2\. My sister got me to get Instagram (@ll4nce). I will dump all of my art for any of my stories there. If there will be art for this story I will link it.
> 
> 3\. BIG ANNOUNCEMENT! My sister (lluv3r) and I are planning A BIG choose your path story featuring our favorite Volton cast! It will be a murder mystery. Because it's choose your path, it'll probably be a while until the story is posted, but stay tuned!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. HEAVEN: Verbundenheit/Erinnerungen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor makes a move. Acxa meets Veronica. Lance is found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nobody ever told me if it was too cheesy
> 
> Enjoy!

“Why isn't the Red Lion my constellation? I want the Red Lion to protect me!”

“Shut up, Lance.”

\---

Acxa takes a look around. Her team looks unsure as well. She had a bad feeling about this job, it was sketchy, random, and made all of her alarm bells ring and red lights blink but the payment was just too nice. They've never gotten this much money for two targets. And their targets aren't some well protected rich guys like usual. It was just some unremarkable office workers, one of them proclaimed missing a while ago. 

Adam Wright, the plainest of plain. No criminal records, average grades in school, average at his job, average looks, no serious relationship, seemingly no real hobbies other than watching TV at home with a fat cat, never got noticed for anything he does, really. Even his name was boring.

Acxa thinks killing this one will be easy.

And then, Lance McClain. Has been proclaimed missing a few days ago. Their client had assured them that he was alive, however, and they'd just have to track him. Somehow. Other than Wright's, McClain's life's one big roller coaster. An awful lot of siblings who are incredibly successful. Amazing elementary school grades. Awful grades after that. Was regarded a prodigy in swimming, but was outclassed several times in competitions. Failed flight school. An engagement that was broken off. On bad terms, too. No real relationships right now. Once caused an accident by drunk driving. One person was gravely injured but lived. McClain broke his leg in three different spots. Was a good dancer, but that car accident had ruined that for him. Acxa thinks he looks a little too boyish for 22. Ezor calls him a cute.

It will be more difficult to kill this one, Acxa believes. Not only because they have to track him, but also because he just seems so much more human than Wright does.

“We should do it,” Zethrid says. “It's easy money.”

“I'm with whatever you say,” Ezor says.

Narti just nods at her.

In front of them, their client patiently waits for an answer. Acxa doesn't know why multimillionaire Lotor Galreon wants two office workers dead, but he is certainly serious, golden eyes pointedly looking at them, mouth curled into a polite smile - platinum blonde hair flowing over his shoulders, framing his pale face. A single strand of hair found itself falling into that face unlike the others tucked behind ears. His hands were on the table, finger touching it's mirrored finger, arms hugged by a white dress shirt and black jacket, the very definition of rich business man, alright.

 _“I only wish for the best assassins,”_ he had said. _“You are known for doing your work efficiently and cleanly. And hope you understand that someone like me really can't get a mess on their hands. Of course, I will pay you plenty.”_

He had smiled. They talked about how he wants someone dead and the room was dimly lit and smelled like cinnamon and everything was eerie and _he smiled._

_“Those two will be your targets. If you manage to kill them, please make sure it's not traceable to me.”_

And then he had handed them the files they were currently looking through.

Acxa isn't so sure what to do. The assignment looks easy enough on paper, but it somehow just feels wrong. The random targets of Lotor Galreon of all people. The weird atmosphere in the room. The fake smile on Galreon's face. The sweet smell of cinnamon.

It feels wrong. So, so wrong, but-

“We’ll do it,” she says with one last glance at her teammates.

\---

“How is it, Adam?”

“Ahem. It's amazing how the soft and tender the chicken is with this crispy skin! What a lovely combination!”

“...are you reading a guide on how to praise food right now?”

“...noooooo.”

“...so, the king of liars?”

\---

They decide that they should split up. Acxa will try to track McClain. Narti, Ezor, and Narti will go after Wright. It had sounded so good in theory. But now Acxa stands in the middle of the bustling city, no idea how to start tracking him without making it obvious. Maybe she should just ask around.

“Excuse me-” she starts, but the person she planned on asking just ignores her and pushes past her, pursuing whatever they pursued before. Rude.

_“Yesterday, Matthew Holt's threat to bomb Altea was realized in a bombing at the city hall,” a news lady's voice rung from somewhere. “evacuation measures had been taken and the city was emptied,” she continues drawling. “there were no casualties. Now to Plaxum with a live broadcast from the scene of the bombing.”_

“Excuse me…” No one is stopping to listen to her.

_“Thank you, Luxia. This is Plaxum from Altea City Hall. Yesterday, at approximately 4 a.m., a bomb went off, destroying the entire building. Luckily, the fire that followed the explosion didn't spread, so the damage is manageable. We ask the people of Altea to not panic, as Holt is known for never attacking the same city twice. Of course, the police will still do anything in their power to arrest Holt-”_

Acxa feels lost. Lost in the sea of people that won't listen to her, lost in the big city that makes her so close to so many people who are yet so far away. How will she find McClain like this?

_“In other news, there once again has been a murder in Arus.”_

“Hello, I'm looking for-” Ignored again. Is this what big city life is? Acxa can't quite remember the last time she talked to someone who isn't her team or a client.

_“-the victim has been identified as Shay Bal-”_

She takes a deep breath. Maybe she has been going at it wrong. Maybe she should look out for people that seemed helpful. But as soon as she looks around, she realizes how everyone looks the same. Draped in big coats, head partly hidden in big winter caps, eyes cast downwards, headphones in their ears.

_“-missing purse and other valuable objects on her make-”_

“The girl made you help her look, huh,” a gruff voice says and Acxa turns around to see a middle-aged man, hair already starting to grey, mouth turned in a frown. “She already asked me about the boy so you don't need to. Haven't seen him, no one has. I hate to say it, but you should give up. It is deepest winter. The boy's already dead.” Acxa doesn't know what to say. The man sighs and looks behind him. Acxa follows his eyes. “Make her rest for a bit at least. She has been asking every day for the last month. That can't be healthy.”

_“-police is still investigating-”_

She spots her, the girl the man was talking about. She has an uncanny similarity to him. Same dark brown hair, slightly tan skin, blue eyes, just as lanky and tall as her brother is. It's McClain's sister. Acxa thinks she could be a great help in tracking McClain. I should try to make contact, get information. “I'll...I'll do my best,” she gets out and the man nods and leaves.

_“Now to Swirn with the weather-”_

She walks towards the woman. What should she say? _I'm also looking for your brother, want to look together? Why? Because I want to kill him for money! or what. No, she needs to lie. She needs a really good lie so the other will trust her. Think Acxa. Why would you look for McClain? What would his sister want to hear?_

\---

“Why'd you do it?”

“Why did I do what?”

“...you know. That.”

“Oh… I guess I was just tired.”

\---

“Hey.” The other woman looks at her. She looks tired, hungry, just… exhausted in general. If what the man was saying is true she was here for a month asking about McClain. And never found a clue. 

“I heard you were looking for Lance.” _Pretend you know him. Casual first name basis. Then you can pretend to be worried about him, which is a great way of making her believe you want to search him for a noble reason. Not to kill him._

“Y-you know Lance?” She asks, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes. Acxa shifts a bit. This blue of her eyes really reminds her of that one time she went crazy on her mother and had died her hair deep blue out of protest. She liked it a lot, her mother didn't.

“Yes,” _Think. What does she want to hear?_ “I just saw him a few weeks ago.”

“You did?” She asks excitedly, grabbing the other's shoulders and shaking them wildly. “Where did you see him? Was he fine? Who was he with? What's he doing right now?”

There is a moment needed for Acxa to process what she was being asked (the shaking did not help) until she finally manages to scramble some words out. “I just saw him around here, he seemed fine, I didn't see anyone with him, I don't really know what he was doing.”

She stops moving. There are so many emotions flowing through the other's eyes at her answer. Relief, because he's fine. Hope, because he seems nearby. Worry, because he was all by himself. And finally, fear, as she still has no clue what her brother is doing.

“Everything will be fine,” Acxa says, trying to sound reassuring. McClain's sister looks up at her, all of those emotions still flashing in her eyes. “My name is Carmen, by the way. I am… well, I wouldn't say friend, but we're acquaintances. The first time we met,” _pretend you're familiar with him. Use the information from the file._ “he used that lame ass pick up line. It was so bad I couldn't help but laugh.” _Chuckle here. Remember what Ezor said when we first saw him on the pictures._ “He’s pretty cute, so we exchanged numbers and he texted me sometimes if he wanted to hang out. Last time was just about two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks ago,” the woman repeated mindlessly. “He's been missing for about a month. Why didn't you tell anyone you saw him?” Yelling. _Deep breaths deep breaths._

_First, pretend to be shocked. Open your mouth, close it again. Then, look at the ground. Try to look guilty. Avoid her eyes. “I honestly didn't even realize he was proclaimed missing. I had no idea.” Whisper. Let your voice break slightly._

The other woman sighs. “I'm… sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I'm just… so worried, you know. I'm sorry.” She genuinely looks ashamed. Acxa feels a little bad for lying to her. “Oh, uh, I'm Veronica, by the way. I'm Lance's sister.”

“You look a lot like him, so I kind of figured,” Acxa laughs and Veronica smiles a bit. Acxa's brain stops working for a second.

“We get that a lot. Anyway, tell me more about your meeting with Lance, please?”

\---

“Adam, why are you so exhausted? We barely did anything.”

“Oh shut it. I feel like vomiting… ohhh. Stupid training, stupid muscle man.”

“You need to get stronger to fight the gods and their partners. And did you really jus-”

“I said shut it! God, I know I need to get stronger. I just wish there was an easier way to do it.”

“There are no shortcuts in life, Adam.”

“... you're god though.”

\---

She doesn't even have to convince the other woman much. They go to a nearby cafe and order drinks and some cake and Acxa starts. Starts spinning lies as she always has. Lance wanted to hang out so they met at the lake close to the city at his request. He looked like he was eating and sleeping enough, no worries. He was nervous however and just rambled nonsense, so she asked him to go home to rest as he seemed sick and they parted.

Veronica looks a bit disappointed that there's no real info on where Lance could be or what he could be doing, but she sighs and takes what she can get (And orders another cake.).

“A co-worker from Lance told me he saw him hanging with some guy with a black hair, styled in a mullet, blue eyes and red jacket. Saw him somewhere?”

Acxa thinks about it hard. Because that description does sound familiar, a distant inner voice in her head whispering _wow a mullet? Who wears their hair in a mullet in today's age?_ She remembers, she saw that person somewhere before. 

As she tells this to Veronica, the woman lights up. “You saw that person? Carmen, you have to remember! Maybe he knows what Lance is up to, where he is!

“I'm trying, hold on.” She would never have heard about Mullet Man if it wasn't for Veronica. A clue to Lance McClain. Talking (lying) to her really paid off.

Now, where did she see Mullet Man? She's an assassin, she doesn't run around crowds too much. Usually, they don't have to search for a target like they have to search for McClain. She was at Galreon Mansion of course. The man in question was not there however, there was no way, not as staff or as a visitor. Otherwise, she wasn't in Daibazaal much. She didn't run around in Altea because of Matthew Holt and his bomb threat. Did she see him in Arus? It was the only possibility left.

And then suddenly, it hits her. It hits her like a god send thunder, making her jump up.

\---

“I'll be out for a little. Don't do anything stupid.”

“No worries, Mullet! Have a fun time doing whatever!”

“... bye. And stop calling me that.”

“...”

“...oh god, I'm falling, _I'm falling, I'm still falling, I'm falling all over again.”_

\---

It's in the shutdown industrial area close to the lake she claimed she saw Lance. 

Acxa recognizes that while she spun lies she had made a fatal mistake - mentioning the first place that came to her mind, a place where she really was, just a few days ago, with Narti. Luckily, Veronica either doesn't seem to notice or if she did, she didn't comment on that at all.

She saw Mullet Man going down the path to the industrial area, holding bags in both of his hands. She can't remember quite clearly, but she thinks it was some basic food and water - it makes her think, why would anyone bring that to an abandoned industrial area? Especially as this was way too much for one person. It couldn't be a party, too basic food, normal drinks for that. And that's why Acxa couldn't think of any conclusion other than that Mullet Man maybe be helping someone to hide there. Someone like Lance McClain.

And she found this clue only by coming into contact with Veronica McClain. Who is walking ahead of her at a fast pace right now, directly to the industrial area. Acxa rather wanted to check it out herself, but once she jumped up, Veronica knew she figured something out and pressed and pressed and pressed and Axca couldn't help but spill, telling her about the bags, the path and Mullet Man.

It seemed like Veronica drew the same conclusion as she had. She thinks Lance McClain is hiding out in the industrial area with the help of a friend. And now she is hellbent on finding her missing brother.

They pass the lake, which means they'll be there soon. The gun she always carries around for safety measures feels heavy against her leg.

She can't shoot McClain in front of his sister (it's because then her cover would be blown, not because she feels bad to do so or anything like that) so she has to wait for another chance. And who knows when that'll be, he was missing for a month, they'll baby him, stay with him at any time. Well, she can't change it now, plus she has to see if McClain even is here.

That's the mindset she set when they finally reached their destination.

Old, rusty doors, creaking in the wind. Walls that rake into the sky, covered in ivy and other green plants, just like the streets, torn and disrupted, littered in beer cans and cigarettes. The windows were broken and the walls covered in graffiti. 

The only reason nobody ever was here was that there was a rumor that the place was overrun with criminals and the like.

But right now, it is eerie silent, as if all of them were laying in wait to jump on them. Acxa's jaw clenches and her hands find themselves on the hidden gun strapped to her leg. Surely, she would be able to protect herself, but she isn't so sure if she can protect Veronica as well. And that's what makes her nervous.

They walk around for a while until they come across a warehouse, door wide open, other than the other doors who creaked in the wind, but mostly closed. And then they hear it. Steps. There's somebody walking around in the warehouse.

“Lance!” Veronica shouts before Acxa can even do anything and runs through the door, the strangled “wait!” too late to stop the other woman as she crashes into the warehouse. And the person in it turns around with a whirl, surprised look on his face, ocean blue eyes that look so much like Veronica's wide.

It's him. They found Lance McClain.

\---

“Shiro, is it weird that I don't feel bad when other people suffer? Am I abnormal?”

“... Why are you humans so obsessed with the idea of normalcy? It's fine to be weird.”

“You only say that because you're super weird. And you totally dodged my question.”

“Fine. Yes, you're weird.”

“... Okay. But is being weird really fine?”

“Of course, Adam. Being weird makes you you after all.”

\---

“Lance! Oh my God, Lance!” Both Acxa and Lance are unable to get a word out as Veronica barrels into her brother, hugging him tightly as if she feared he would disappear into thin air if she didn't, McClain's arms awkwardly hovering over her back as if he still couldn't decide whether to hug her back or not.

“Lance, I'm so glad you're okay! Did you know how worried I was? How worried we were? What are you even going here?” She asks, tears in her eyes, voice breaking slightly.

McClain doesn't seem to know how to respond. He just stands there, still not hugging her back, glancing between the two women, without a doubt trying to figure out the identity of Acxa who came with his sister.

“I… I am, uh… well, what are you doing here?” Intelligent answer, McClain.

“You big dummy! Of course, I'm came looking for you! Did you think you can just disappear and get away with it?!”

McClain seems too stunned to make a proper answer with his sister sobbing into his shoulder, her arms switching between weakly punching him and hugging him tightly.

And that's when Acxa has a thought. She could shoot him. Right here, right now, with the gun she's carrying. He's distracted. Who cares about her cover? She can always drop under and let Ezor do stuff that needs human interaction. They won't catch her, even if Veronica witnesses this and stays alive. Plus she is a master of disguise, so she can change how she looks (sometimes with the help of Ezor) any day. She could finish the job right now. Those are the thoughts that made her reach around for her gun, slowly calming down at the familiar feeling in her hand. She takes a deep breath and starts sliding it out of the holster. Eliminate Lance McClain.

But something makes her stop. Veronica, with her sparkling blue eyes, so happy she found him. Whispers of “I'm glad, I'm so glad,” spilling out of her mouth, relief and happiness evident.

Acxa has never in her life felt so reluctant to finish a job. She really, really can't bring herself to do it. And she knows it has to do with the woman she met today, funny, loyal, dedicated, caring. She doesn't think she ever can go through with killing someone so important to her. If anything, she would even stop her teammates from going through with it. Maybe they can kill only Wright and Galreon will pay them half. Or they just reject the request. It was fishy from the beginning anyway. All that Acxa knows is that she won't kill Lance McClain here.

And she slowly let's go of her gun, slipping from her grasp as she looks at Veronica with a smile.

But before the gun leaves her grip completely, she feels a stinging pain in her chest. Wondering what could've caused it, her eyes wander down to look if there was something wrong - and to her surprise, there is a glaring hole there, blood slowly oozing out of it, dripping to the ground. “Oh,” she murmurs, then her body hits the ground, hands pressed against the wounds as much as possible. She knows it's futile, but she does it anyway.

Lance McClain has shot her. She doesn't even know where he got the gun from. Maybe from his baggy jacket pockets. She should've paid more attention. Now all she can do is twist her neck so she can see the pair of siblings from the ground, Veronica shouting frantically, McClain still pointing his gun at her.

“Who send you?!” He shouts, Veronica's cries of “What are you doing Lance, why'd you shot Carmen?! Where'd you get that gun? Lance!” fading in the background. He ignores her.

“Who the fuck send you?!” He shouted again, Acxa not answering. There was no real point to, after all. She’d die anyway and by talking she may sell out her team. So she stays quiet.

“You're not going to talk,” he says, eyes that Acxa has regarded to be as warm as Veronica's ocean blue ones cold and freezing as ice. She'd even say they were glowing, but that was impossible. Maybe it was the blood loss. “You got involved with the wrong people, assassin.” He points his gun again. She closes her eyes. 

“Lance, stop!” A gasp and sounds of struggling. Acxa opens her eyes to the siblings struggling for the gun in their stand. The expression both of them wore was one of absolute incredibility at the other’s actions.

“Why are you stopping me, Veronica!”

“Give me the gun, Lance!”

“I'm defending myself, why are you stopping me from defending myself?”

“Lance, calm down and give me this gun!”

“No, NOOO!”

McClain manages to point the gun at his sister in their struggle. His finger is still on the trigger. All he needs to do is pull it and he wins their struggle. This isn't good. Acxa decides she needs to stop that. She uses one of her hands to go feel for her gun. 

She can't find it in time.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a cry sounds. And before Acxa even knows what's going on, Veronica lies on the ground, deep slashing wounds on her back, bleeding relentlessly. “Lance are you okay?” A new voice asks. They sound distraught, almost scared. McClain can't answer because someone decides to speak up first.

“Brother… “ Veronica whispered, seemingly with her last strength. “I’m sorry I wasn't there for you.”

And McClain just stares as she closes her eyes and bleeds out, eyes wide. “Shit Lance, I didn't know…” the new person curses. Acxa can finally get a good look at him. It's Mullet Man. Just like Veronica had described, black hair, mullet, red jacket. Probably not that much older than McClain. Covered in red blood. In his hand, a sword also soaked in blood. His face expresses distraught, worry, fear. His blue eyes are even bluer than McClain’s and Veronica's.

“I really didn't know,” he says again, but McClain shakes his head. The shocked expression he wore before morphs into one of pure rage, features twisted as he glares at the bleeding body next to him.

“She tried to kill me,” he whispers. Both Mullet Man's and Acxa's eyes widen at his statement. “She worked with this assassin to find me. And she tried to shoot me while Veronica distracted me. I saw her going for her gun and I shot first. When she was down, I tried asking her questions but Veronica stopped me again. She wanted to take my gun to finish the job. Veronica wanted to kill me. You don't need to be sorry, Keith. You saved me. She tried to kill me.”

Mullet Man - _Keith_ \- looks at the women, then Lance. “Is that so,” he says, taking the other's hands, apparently a gesture of comfort between them, as the anger nearly immediately fades from his face.

There are so many things wrong with this scene. Acxa shouts. “Y-you're wrong! This is a mis-misunderstanding! Veronica, she-” Acxa can't help but cough. She thinks there's an irony taste in her mouth, but she ignores it in favor of trying to clear Veronica's name. “She wanted to h-help you, I swear she w-wanted to!” More coughs. Acxa opens her mouth one last time. “She d-didn't know about me being an assassin. I lie- lied to her. She was inn- innocent. Believe me, Lance- Lance McClain!”

But Lance McClain and Keith whatever-his-last-name-is just look her dead into the eyes, not reacting to the speech at all.

“Who sent you?”

Acxa stares at their glowing blue eyes with an aghast expression, then all she sees is black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has Adam been dethroned as the king of liars yet?
> 
> Another issue I wanted to talk about, I already have the Major Character Death warning in right? Is there still a need for me to warn in the notes if there will be death in a specific chapter or is this fine? I feel like doing that takes away the suspension.
> 
> There might be a monster chapter in the future (7000+) because of that one chapter where I wrote too much Klance. AHOY
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. HELL: Kontrolle/Sucht

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor met an angel. They fall. Matt goes wild.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got around to write the monster chapter.
> 
> I think the three biggest reasons why it took so long were:
> 
> 1\. Exams were kicking my ass  
> 2\. I struggled with the Lotor part because apparently, I can't write Lotor for shit. If that feels forced, it's because I actually had to force myself to get that out. No matter how many times I read it over, I can't find a better way to write the part. I'm open to any help.  
> 3\. There was a big lack of motivation. When I got the first few chapters out, there were always a few comments that helped me get motivated. I don't get any feedback now, so I always wonder if the story got boring and people just don't read it anymore. Plus my hard to please and honest to a fault sister stopped reading this. Well not stopped per se, but she doesn't read it after I give her the draft version of a chapter. I think she still didn't read chapter 5 and it just makes me sad. 
> 
> But enough ranting, enjoy the chapter! It isn't quite 7000+, more along the lines of 6,630 or something.

“Fuck!” Ezor takes cover behind a tree. Wright's crazy boyfriend dodges Zethrid’s bullets and pierces through her cover, nearly stabbing her as well. 

They thought ambushing Wright during his leisure stroll through the thick forest of Arus was a good idea. They attacked him at the lake, but all of their bullets were blocked… by a man with a blade as his arm.

“This is fucking nuts! This was not in the job description!” Zethrid shouted, desperately trying to do anything to stop this madman. 

“Retreat! Let's regroup with Acxa and formulate a new plan! Hopefully, one that involves quitting this!” It seems like the other two assassins agreed with Ezor as they pulled back without turning their backs to their enemies, running as fast as they could once they were in a safe distance. Neither Wright nor his boyfriend followed them.

“W-what the fuck….” Ezor pants.

“They didn't tell us about this maniac!” Zethrid agrees, even Narti nodding. They slowly walk towards their vehicle.

“Let's contact Acxa and form a new plan,” Ezor suggests and the others agree as they sit down in their vehicle, Ezor punching in codes in their communication device, ringing up Acxa. After a few seconds, she can hear her pick up.

“Hello? Acxa? This is Ezor.” There's only silent breathing from the other side.

“Acxa?”

_“...Who sent you?”_

Gruff, deep, male. And immediately, Ezor freezes. She slams the device into the ground, destroying it. “They got Acxa's communication device. I don't know if they got Acxa. But we may have to assume the worst.”

“Shit!” Zethrid leans back into her seat. “I knew this job sounded too good to be true!”

There was a heavy silence setting over the three assassins, maybe mourning their teammate, maybe rearing for their own fate.

“Let's ask Galreon about this,” Narti whispers and the other two agree and drive off.

\---

It was a warm, but rainy and grey day in the midst of March when an angel fell on Lotor Galreon's roof.

Her beautiful, long silver hair flowed over her body, a blue dress covering her body. She did not have any wings or a halo or anything like that, but there was no doubt on his mind that she was heavenly. For once, she was so beautiful, so gorgeous that she simply can't be human. And a single beam of sunlight was illuminating her, piercing through the clouds.

It was love on first sight.

He lifted her up, careful, as gently as it was possible for him and carried her into his house, barking some orders at his staff. They prepared a guest room, a small room with all dark ebony furniture, a bed with clean white sheets, a dresser and a desk with a chair facing one of the spotless white walls and he laid her in the bed in there, sitting down next to it and looking over her.

Her cute nose, her full lips, her serene expression, everything was perfect. His hand moves to touch her cheek, but the door opened - it was the doctor he wanted to come.

The doctor checked on her and told Lotor how she was just sleeping, she should be fine and wake up soon. And just like he predicted, she did wake a couple of hours later.

When her eyes fluttered open, Lotor saw the sky in them. They were such a beautiful, shining blue, they were blinding.

She rose from the bed Lotor had laid her in a graceful manner, blinking at him a few times. “Who are you?” Her soft voice sounded, her consciousness slowly awakening as she looked around. And she started to panic, her beautiful eyes widening as she started to stand up, nearly falling when Lotor caught her.

“My powers…! My powers!” She gasped, Lotor rubbing soothing circles into her back, trying to calm her down.

“Come on, calm down. I'm here for you. I'll help you,” he soothed, the angel slowly calming down, trying to look at him. And then she just continued to stare at at him.

“Is something wrong?” He asked and she visibly slumped, sighing. 

“No…” she said, sounding careful. “I just tried to remember who you are. I don't remember a thing.”

Now, Lotor has been around in business long enough to know when someone's lying across of him. It's just a skill necessary to make sure he's surviving in there. So he knew she was lying. For a reason he thought he knew. Because she was an angel.

“My name is Lotor Galreon. We don't actually know each other. I found you, hurt, so I decided I would bring you to my house to help. Do you remember your name?”

“Oh… thank you. My name is... Al- Alma.”

Lotor smiled at her.

\---

Alma was distant. She barely talked and just went up the roof, looking at the sky longingly every day. Lotor thought it was because she wanted to go back to heaven, where she belonged. She never said that he should contact anyone. She blamed it on her amnesia, but Lotor knew better.

Lotor wanted her to stay with him as long as possible. He wanted to card his hand through her hair, touch her cheek softly, look her into the eyes while smiling.

He tried talking to her, of course. She didn't respond at all, only answering him when he actively asked for an answer.

And it made his heart ache. He wanted to be close to her, he wanted to hear her voice more. He was hurting.

But Lotor knew how to worm himself into a woman's heart. He did it often enough with female business partners, charming them into deals and bed all the same. Sometimes even both.

The first step was simple. Be polite. Be nice. Don't be afraid to throw out compliments. But don't overdo it or it will feel forced and make it obvious that he has ulterior motives. Compliment more than just her looks. Women have like a sixth sense for that and hate that.

Then, find something to talk about. Anything that interests them. Inform yourself about it, but pretend to not know a thing so they can tell you anything about it, act interested. When it's alright, make a thoughtful comment or a funny joke. Let her do the talking. Make her feel good about herself.

It was difficult with Alma because she didn't have anything she'd like to talk about. He tried to talk about things she remembered, but she insisted that she can't remember anything. The doctor didn't find anything wrong with her, no matter how many times he came around to check up on her. And her memories never seemed to return.

Then, he tried to ask about her day, what she had been doing when he was working. The answers were often bland.

_“I was resting.”_

_“I was sleeping.”_

_“I was trying to remember.”_

Obviously, Lotor realized once he was laying in his own bed at night, it was because there was nothing in her room to do and she never left it, unless she went to the roof to star gaze. So he subtly left books, pens, and paper in her room.

And it worked. She warmed up to him.

“Lotor!” She called when he visited her today. “You forgot your book here today.”

“Oh, did I?” She held out the book to him which he took with a smile. “Thank you so much, Alma. It's one of my favorites.”

She smiled back as her eyes shone at his words sheepishly. “Forgive me, but I couldn't help but look into it. And once I started, I just couldn't stop! It was so interesting!”

Lotor chuckled softly. Now he can proceed just like usual. “It's truly a classic, isn't it.”

They stayed up late to talk about the book. For the first time, Alma didn't spend her night on the roof.

\---

“You can go to the library anytime you want. You don't need to wait for me to drop books here for you, you know?” Lotor chuckled as he laid some books on the table on her room. Alma smiled at his actions.

“But I do like to see what you like,” she said, sitting in her chair.

“Is that so,” he said good-naturedly, smiling one last time as he left her room. She waved and wished him a fun day.

“We're going to talk about them later, right?” She asked, a hopeful shine in her eyes. Lotor nodded.

“Of course, Alma. I love talking about those books with you. Your comments are always thoughtful and intriguing.”

It became a norm between them. Lotor would leave books in the morning for her. She'd read through them and they'd talk about them once he returned. If she couldn't finish them, they'd just talk about what she read up until that point. 

They'd just talk, talk and talk, exchanging opinions, thinking about the metaphors and the hidden meanings. Lotor soon realized he didn't just talk to her to charm her. No, he was genuinely enjoying their talks.

She warmed up to him.

\---

“The crimes in this book seem impossible,” Alma complained, having read halfway through a mystery novel Lotor cherished. 

“How so?” He asked her, raising his eyebrows as he took the book to flip through it.

“The tricks and riddles… I can't figure them out. They're so hard.” Lotor chuckled as he sat down on a chair - he brought in one extra so he could sit while they talked - remembering how he also had trouble decoding every crime in that book. It was true that they were hard.

“Well why don't we make a game,” he proposed. “You didn't read till the end yet, specifically not until the resolve, right?” She shook her head. “Good. Now, Alma, I want you to go over every clue the author has given us carefully. Then you'll propose a theory. And I'll tell you if it's right or not.”

She looked excited at that thought but wasn't completely convinced. “How can I tell if you're lying or not?” She asked raising an eyebrow at him. Her mischievous smile betrayed her teasing, however.

“How about this. When I say ‘Truth: X didn't do that.’ Then it will one hundred percent be the truth. I won't cheat, Alma, believe me.”

She nodded and smiled. Then, she took a short while to go over the pages, formulating a theory on what could've happened in the book. “Okay. So I was thinking that Jacob was the culprit because there's a possibility that he took one of the master keys from the already dead servant.”

“Truth: the master key of the dead servant is still with Alexander who took it with him. Additionally, he has the other master keys also.”

She bit her lip slightly, softly, so it wouldn't break. Lotor was enamored. “So did Alexander murder them?”

“Truth: Alexander is the detective of the mystery and with that, not the culprit.”

She groaned, pointing at a page of the book. “But how did the culprit lock the door? It was a closed room murder! There's no secret passages or mind control or something stupid like that, right?”

Lotor chuckled. “As if I would recommend such a nonsensical mystery to you. Don't worry, you'll figure it out. I'll even give you a hint. Truth: there were no secret passages or mind control, neither was it a trap. The culprit looked the victim straight in the eye, they recognized each other and then they pulled the trigger.”

Alma looked deep into thought again. “Hey, can you repeat this? ‘Alexander had all of the master keys. He's not the culprit, neither is he an accomplice. It was impossible for the culprit to have used the master key to lock the room, therefore was the room not locked by a master key.’”

Lotor nodded. “Truth: Alexander had all of the master keys. He's not the culprit, neither is he an accomplice. It was impossible for the culprit to have used the master key to lock the room, therefore was the room not locked by a master key.” He was having a lot of fun in their game, finding it amusing to see Alma thinking so hard about a solution. He liked how her eyes shine in e she believed she figured something out and her excited voice as she spoke. She was obviously enjoying this as much as he does.

“Alright. I got this. Maybe I've been thinking about this wrong the whole time. The door is locked, but who says it was locked from the outside? Lotor, say this: the culprit was not in the room when Alexander, who stepped into the room first after opening it with a master key, found the body.”

Lotor shook his head, smiling. “... I can't.”

And Alma's eyes widened, her teeth showing as she smiled brilliantly. “So the culprit locked the door from the inside and hid there until everyone found the body. Afterward, Alexander already opened the door, never locking it again, so they could just walk out! And only a few persons don't have an alibi at that time! Only Seth, Nathan and Violet could have been the culprit.”

She looked through the pages again, grinning wider as she came closer to the solution. 

“See? Wasn't so difficult now, was it?” Lotor said, Alma laughing softly, but still trying to pin down one of the three suspects.

“It truly wasn't. I was just too hung up on the master keys. This is so much fun, Lotor. We should do it more often.”

Lotor couldn't help but agree. He left mystery novels more often than any other kind of book. Alma never finished reading them, always stopping right before the resolve.

\---

It was a sunny day at the end of July when they stayed out in Lotor's garden. 

Alma's eyes widened as she took everything from the scenery in. His garden was more than just big and beautiful, it was outright gorgeous.

Verdurous green grass, as far as the eye can see. In the distance, the high grey wall which defined the end of Lotor's property could be seen. To the left and in front of them was a rose garden, roses of all different colors and shapes growing in heightened patches, surrounded by green hedges and closed off from the path with sleek, black, steel fences. To her right was a small lake, as blue and clear as the sky above them, save from a few green leaves falling from a tree growing close to the shore.

Sometimes, snow white cement statues of lions, Greek gods and goddesses and birds on podiums were placed were a rose patch would be, no fence or hedge to obstruct the sight on them. 

While Alma was looking around in wonder Lotor gave her a chance to take his hand with a soft smile, she took his hand after a last glance around. He leads her through his garden, a gravel path weaving through the patches, statues, and grass.

What he intended her to see took her breath away. On a small, round cement platform was a snow white, round table with a bench crafted using the same material surrounding it. Four pillars, as white as the table and chairs, on the edges of the platform, supported a small dome, a roof to the table and chairs. A tea set, blue decorated with pink flowers, and a book were already set at the table.

“I didn't think you like to be scooped up in your room all day. I wanted to show you this. You can read here.”

Alma's breathing stopped for a second. Her hands moved to cover her mouth, her cheeks almost glowing as she blushed.

“Oh, Lotor. It's simply beautiful.”

Lotor smiled at her, happy that she liked it. Still holding her hand, he led her to the bench and sat down next to her. “I'm glad,” he said. “Now, let's start our mystery, shall we?”

And Alma seems to agree as she excitedly grabbed the book and began flipping through it - not before pressing a soft kiss to Lotor's cheek, making him blush deeply.

\---

“Lotor,” Alma asked when they were in his garden once again. Lotor looked up from his paperwork, started to work outside with her instead of I'm his office at the weekend and deciding how delightful her presence was to him, looked up.

“I was wondering - you live all by yourself in that big house, don't you? Don't you share it with someone? Not including the personal, that is.”

Alma asked with no hidden intentions, just pure curiosity. But Lotor couldn't help but to grit his teeth, eyes narrowing to a glare, face hardening immediately, his body, hunched over his work, tense.

Alma noticed almost immediately. She deflated, eyes examining the table and fingers twisting nervously, a possibly shameful blush on her cheeks. “... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked.”

And Lotor, noticing how meek her voice sounded relaxed immediately, his eyes searching Alma's avoiding ones, an apologetic expression on his face.

“No, no. I'd like to tell you.” He sighed, ruffling through his hair a bit and finally deciding to abandon his work for today, turning his full attention to the woman on the table next to him.

“It just… a slightly sensitive topic. But you are an important friend of mine,” she looked at him on surprise as he said that, “You're one of the only people that I can confide in. And I suppose it's time I told someone my story. I just… never had anyone to talk this over with.”

He started to tense again, but soothing circles on his hand made him relax. Alma laid her hand over his, an encouraging smile on her face.

“Thank you,” he whispered before continuing to talk, clearing his throat. “It wasn't always like this,” he started, glancing up at the pristine white walls of his mansion.

“I lived here with my family. My father, my mother and me. I don't have any siblings. I think… I was happy. I don't remember it too well. It was a long time ago. But I remember my father giving me piggyback rides through the gardens, my mother, laughing, as she sat exactly where are sitting right now.”

He took another deep breath. Alma kept encouraging him silently.

“My father was a charming businessman. My mother a renowned scientist. It happened too sudden. There was an accident in her lab. My mother… became very ill. No doctor could help her. I was only 10 years old. And my father, who loves her so dearly, went mad trying to find a cure. He took down everything in the way of his wife's health. He didn't refrain from murder, illegal trading, stealing, anything to save her. While eventually did find a cure 4 years later, it had cost him so much. Police and lawyers, you could say all the sins he had committed, were crawling up his back. He was arrested, and during the following scuffle because he resisted he was killed. And all of this for what?”

Lotor let out a humorless laugh. He hadn't told anyone about this for a long time, always keeping it in. Not the people trying to ‘raise him’ after this. Not the therapists they hired. Not the so-called friends they paid for. The last time he talked about this was to his father's wife. And she didn't even believe him.

“My father's wife was cured. If you define cured as being free from a prior harmful physical abnormality in a person's body. Her mind… let's just say she didn't remember a thing. She didn't remember her name, marrying my father, giving birth to me. I was a stranger to her. She's at a mental hospital right now, refusing to see anyone.”

Alma looked at him with misty eyes, her bottom lip trembling. “Oh, Lotor. I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be. It was a long time ago.” For a second, Lotor felt wistful. He didn't know if it showed on his face, but Alma still looked a bit upset. “I was forced to grow up almost immediately. With a dead father and his wife who couldn't remember a thing, all of our money, wealth, laid on my shoulders. Many people tried to take advantage of me. Many people tried to steal everything my parents worked for. Sometimes I had to learn the hard way. But nevertheless, here I am. I made it and left all of that in the past.”

Again, there was a short silence as Lotor had finished and Alma was presumably pondering over which words she should choose.

“You're so strong Lotor,” she finally decided on saying. “I'm so glad you got through all of this. So I could meet you.”

Lotor, who was still a bit tense from his story, softened immediately. “No, it's me who is supposed to thank you. Thank you for listening. I'm so glad we could meet as well.”

They fell into silence again - comfortable this time, their hands not separating as they just enjoyed the fresh air and the sun.

\---

It became a habit. Whenever they were together, they would let their hands touch, hold each other, intertwine.

On a Saturday in the midst of August, Lotor took her hand to lead her back into her room in the darkness of his mansion's corridors after a night of looking up the sky in wonder. Alma knew astoundingly much about constellations. She told him every single one she knew, pointing at the sky with a joyful glint in her eyes. And because Lotor loved listening to her, he'd let her tell him everything, pretending to not know.

He had never seen Alma this excited before. It only strengthened his affections for her, she was just so lovable like this. Adorable even. He was really glad she was opening up to him, but a voice in his mind told him that he was still on borrowed time. Alma was bound to remember something eventually and then she would leave to reunite with - what Lotor believed anyway - angels and their gods from the sky. He didn't want to rush her, however. She was important to him and he didn't want to ruin this. Again, a voice told him it wouldn't work out anyway. She is an angel after all. But he refused to listen, Alma and he were so close. It would work out somehow.

He whispered a good night as they reached her room, Alma breathing one back. But she didn't go into her room yet, instead staring at him with what seems like a slight blush, difficult to actually see in the darkness.

The silence was somewhat tense. Not tense enough to make someone bolt, but tense enough to be uncomfortable.

And then Alma closed her eyes, her lips parting slightly.

Lotor finally got what she was waiting for - and who would decline an invitation like this? 

He leaned in and softly kissed her lips, feeling her tense up, then relaxing and kissing him back.

“I'm sorry if I read the situation wrong,” he said when they parted. Alma shook her head.

“I wanted this for a long time Lotor. I like you a lot. I'd… even go as far as to say that I love you.”

And Lotor knew his happiness showed on his face - the smile he unconsciously gave must've been blinding - his expression mirrored by the women in front of him.

“I love you as well,” he said, finally able to caress her cheek and gently tuck her hair behind her ears. “I have ever since I first laid my eyes on you.”

And then he kissed her again.

\---

He had left her in the garden for about five minutes, kissing her as he noticed that he had forgotten something in the mansion, hurrying to grab it.

When he returned, a man with snow white hair, rivaling Alma's, was grabbing her wrist, urgently taking to her. Alma seemed reluctant, her eyes misty.

“Alma!” He called. They both looked up. He was met with blue and black eyes.

“Allura,” the male urged. “You let him see you the entire time?”

“Oh, Shiro,” Alma - no Allura, what a beautiful name - said, looking regretful. “I lost my powers. I couldn't help it.”

“You and I both know you got them back already,” the other - Shiro - said, glancing at Lotor.

Lotor watched the exchange, frozen on the spot. He was right. She isn't from this world, she really isn't. She was-

“Erase his and the other’s memory. You need to come back,” the other angel said.

The events finally caught up to Lotor. His eyes widened. He wanted to take a step back, do anything- but he was frozen.

And Alma - Allura - looked at him with such a pained expression, his heart tore. “I'm sorry Lotor,” she said slowly walking towards him, raising both of their hands. They end up at both sides of his head, her eyes locking into his. “You might forget me, but I'll never forget you.”

Lotor shook his head, as much as it was possible with her hands on his head. “I don't want to forget you. Alma- Allura,” she flinches when he said her real name. “Allura, I love you.”

She just shook her head sadly. “I have no choice.” 

Allura leaned into his ear.

“I love you too.”

And “I'll explain everything later.”

He feels dizzy as he watched Allura and Shiro leave.

But he remembered.

\---

On a cold day in November, Allura returned.

After his daze passed, she was gone. And with her, all clues that she even existed. Nobody remembered her. The guest room she was staying in was lifeless. All the books he brought her were there where they were before he brought them to her. It was like she had never been there. For a few days, Lotor even believed he was just imagining her. That she had been a fabric of his mind. 

So color him surprised when she stood before him once again, her hands caressing the table in his garden gently. An apologetic smile was on her face, her eyes a vibrant pink instead of the blue he remembered. “Sorry I took so long, Lotor.”

“Alma,” he whispered.

“I'm here to explain, just like I promised. I couldn't get a chance to descend earlier.”

“Nothing of that was fake.”

She shook her head with a sad expression. “Nothing was fake. I love you, my feelings for you are real. And so is the time we had together. But…” Again, her expression darkened. “I kept a secret from you. My real name… is Allura. I'm a goddess. One of five gods.” 

She explained everything to him. Voltron, the stars and what they stand for. She and the other gods. Why she had a chance to descend again, the game they were playing.

When she finished she took a deep breath. 

“I love you, Lotor. But…”

He took her hand. “We'll find a way.”

_The color pink. Allura. One of the most beautiful flowers he had ever seen. Allura-_

And her eyes widened, looking at their intertwined hands. “Lotor what are you doing? Did you not listen to what I just said? About the game? You just made yourself my partner! You'll be in danger of being killed!”

“We'll find a way,” he just repeated. “Looking into her eyes. “We'll find a way for you to win this. And when you get control over everything, you can find a way to make us happen. I'm sure of it. I'll help you, Allura. I'll always be on your side.”

Allura looked at him, her eyes wide, a blush in her face and her mouth slightly parted. The rush of affection for her came back and he swore to do anything necessary for her to win.

_Anything._

\---

“Shiro.” 

Adam and Shiro turn around at the sound of a too familiar voice. It is so familiar that Shiro took the fighting stance again almost immediately.

Keith and Lance. 

Standing there at the edge of the lake like it's no one's business. Keith also seems ready to fight, blade already in his hand. It is covered in red substance. Adam could only guess what it is, but it is probably… blood.

“Were you the one who send assassins after Lance? I didn't think you were such a coward! And those weak humans don't stand a chance against me anyway!”

Shiro furrows his brow in confusion. Adam shakes his head, staring at the blood on Keith's blade and on Lance's shoes. “No. Assassins were after me as well,” Adam clarifies, crossing his arms. He does so while reaching for his Bayard hidden in his pocket. 

Lance notices, his eyes narrowing.

“We don't want to fight,” he says, elbowing Keith. He sighs and tosses his blade aside. It dissolves in blue dust like Adam had seen Shiro's arm blade disappear many times.

Shiro stays on guard, however, ready to defend his partner at any costs.

“We just want to know who sent the assassins. If he came after Adam and I specifically, they must've been hired by a god's partner. It's a great chance for us to learn about another enemy we have to face.”

Keith stays silent, letting Lance do all the talking. He glowers at Shiro's turned hand, however. “It's impossible for us to track the assassins that were after me - they're dead. How about the assassins that were after you?”

Adam opens his mouth to speak, but Shiro is a tick faster. “We’ll tell you. Under one condition. You'll tell us when you find out who the partner is.”

Adam closes his mouth again. It's a pretty nice plan on paper. They don't have to go themselves to investigate, which means less danger. And they'd get the information anyway. But Adam didn't know how trustworthy Keith was. What would stop him from never giving the information? What would stop him from attacking them under the pretense of meeting for exchange?

Plus who would agree with all plan like this? It was obvious that Shiro and Adam profited more than Keith and Lance did. They had to put themselves in danger. Adam and Shiro will get the information anyway.

There's no answer. Adam's eyes flick to Shiro's.

_Trust him. Keith may be a fight hungry hot head, but he doesn't play dirty. ___

__Okay, deep breaths. “Think about it, Keith,” Adam says. “If you don't do the deal with us, you might never know who hired the assassins that tried to kill Lance.”_ _

__Keith's face sours immediately. It is a twist of anger, rage, resentment. Adam had seen that kind of face before. It is a face sported by the intense need to get revenge. To kill._ _

__It was paired with Lance's slightly upturned eyebrows and wide, glassy eyes. He wasn't hurt physically (or so it seems), but it was clear there was something on his mind, something burdening him quite a bit mentally._ _

__And Adam realizes that maybe - if one could judge by the blue god's reaction - maybe he cares about Lance more than he'd like to let on. He is… protective. He wants to hunt those down who hurt Lance and hurt them more._ _

__Adam thinks about Hunk and Shay and how that ended for them. He kindly ignores that he himself was like that with Shiro._ _

___It can't end well, it just can't-_ _ _

___Not for you, not for Shiro, not for Lance, not for Keith-_ _ _

__“You want to let them get away? The ones who tried to kill him?” Adam breathes out._ _

__Keith bristles, his anger turning his face red._ _

__“Keith…” Lance starts, but Keith interrupts him._ _

__“You've got a deal, Shiro. Tell me where they went. Tell me now!”_ _

__Adam notices how Lance looks almost baffled at this reaction. _Ha, he doesn't even know yet-__ _

__Keith's eyes are burning with resentment. His stance is tense. Adam has awoken a beast and he doesn't think anyone can stop Keith now._ _

__Shiro tells him the direction the assassins fled too. Keith looks ready to run off immediately, but stops himself and glares at the black god._ _

__“Allura's partner is named Lotor, Lotor Galreon,” Keith spits out. “I don't wanna look for you later, so I'm telling you this instead of the info you asked for. It has the same value anyway.”_ _

__Adam notices how Shiro's eyes widen from the corner of his eyes._ _

__But before Shiro can say or ask anything, Keith already dashes off, Lance hurrying to keep up with him._ _

__\---_ _

_If you wish to meet me, come to the Arus museum of art. -Lotor Galreon_

__A note hidden in the files about the targets Lotor had assigned them to._ _

__So that's where they went. The art museum of Arus is a simple free to enter museum with different paintings and sculptures, all dedicated to the stars of Voltron and the gods. The walls are made from glass and the ground so clean one could see their reflection in there. The sculptures are on heightened platforms, marking how close one is allowed to get to them. On the corners of that platform, a golden, cylindered pole is attached, a red rope connecting them. The paintings are behind glass covers, framed in a golden-brown frame. Pillars, also white in color, hold the second floor of the museum. The second floor adds to the artworks of the first floor, using mostly the same design and protection choices. It was empty save for staff most of the time._ _

__And in front of a marvelous painting with five lions representing the five gods of Voltron, Lotor Galreon stands, back turned to them._ _

__As he hears their footsteps he turns around, the fake smile still frozen on his lips._ _

__“Ah. It seems you have found my note. Welcome, ladies. How may I help you?”_ _

__His voice is smooth and polite, in fact so much, it made Ezor shudder. Everything about this man screams wrong, even though he seems so perfect._ _

__Zethrid speaks first, not paying attention to how loud she was shouting._ _

__“Who the fuck did yours want as after?! Who were those guys' bodyguards?!”_ _

__Lotor frowns - for the first time Ezor had seen him, the polite smile is off his face. It should've been more natural, but it still looks out of place, just like Lotor as a person- and he sighs._ _

__“So I take it you weren't successful in eliminating the targets?” His voice is neutral, but Ezor is able to hear something. A certain edge to his tone. He was tense. Walking on eggshells._ _

__Zethrid doesn't pick up on his subtle tone. She continues shouting, blinded by the anger of not only losing, but having to leave one of them behind. “How are we supposed to, genius? His stupid boyfriend blocked all of our advances! He's not human!” This is the point where Ezor knows she has to stop Zethrid, or else she'll overshare. So she reaches her hand out. Too late._ _

__“You didn't tell us anything about crazy bullet blocking bodyguards! If only you'd given us the full info! Then maybe Acxa…”_ _

__Another sigh from Lotor. It makes Ezor feel like hell's about to freeze over. All of her alarm bells are ringing. _Be ready, be ready-_ her mind chants._ _

__“How regrettable. I must remind you that your mission was to kill them, not to fight their boyfriends or whatever. I was hoping you would recognize that you have to kill him from afar without anyone noticing that you aimed for him. Confronting them directly was foolish. Not only because you were outmatched…”_ _

__A short break-_ _

__A single gunshot-_ _

__One lone heart beating for the last time-_ _

__“They saw you. And they might use you to track me. I cannot allow that.”_ _

__And Narti falls._ _

__The silence following is nearly deafening. Ezor's ears ring. Like in trance, she and Zethrid reach for their own weapons. Zethrid shoots._ _

__The noise of a whip. Their bullets being blocked again, again…_ _

__A lady with silver hair standing in front of Lotor. The whip cracking in her hands. Lotor leaving with a smirk, neither of them able to do anything about it._ _

__The whip cracks again._ _

__Narti is bleeding a lot. Ezor wonders if they were going to die, just like that._ _

__“It's nothing personal,” the woman says. Zethrid is shouting._ _

__And suddenly, a little kid is in front of them._ _

__\---_ _

__“Don't go breaking rules, Allura.”_ _

__Allura stares at the person in front of her. Fluffy sand brown hair, cut short. Eyes as green as the grass in Lotor's garden, hidden beneath thick, round glasses._ _

__“Pidge.”_ _

__Pidge looked behind her. Ezor and Zethrid were still frozen on the spot, guns raised with shaking hands._ _

__“Run humans. I'll find you later. I'll fix the mess Allura has gotten you into.”_ _

__She doesn't get to say anything else. Allura aims her whip at her, the air around it cracking because of the speed of it flying._ _

__Pidge quickly manifest her own weapon - a Katar - and blocks the strikes of Allura's indestructible weapon. All she wants to do is buy enough time for the humans to escape. She barely dodges a strike in her left, the whip slamming into the ground, splitting the even and polished tiles. Pidge grits her teeth._ _

__“I'm doing what I think is right,” Allura says. Because Pidge us defending the still frozen humans behind her, she couldn't risk to go in for an attack. So both of them just stand still on the spot, blocking and attacking._ _

__Suddenly, a bullet whizzes past her. Pidge whirls around. “Don't attack her you idiots!”_ _

__She moves to defend the humans._ _

__Too late._ _

__Allura's whip cracks. It blocks the bullet and in the same movement, the indestructible material pierces Zethrid's stomach, the rip covered in red blood as it protruded out of the muscular woman's back. “... That's not how… whips are supposed to work right?” We're the last words she gasped out before Allura retrieved her weapon, leaving a gaping hole, blood slowly oozing out of it and pooling at the ground. Just a second later-_ _

__Zethrid falls, unmoving and next to Narti._ _

__Ezor is the only one left. “Run already!” Pidge shouts and Ezor flinches. And finally runs._ _

__\---_ _

__“Pidge was really trying to defend her,” Keith says. “She doesn't care about people that way. And she wouldn't just fight Allura just for fun. There must be a reason.”_ _

__On a high building close to the museum, Lance and Keith lay ready and in wait after catching up with the assassins Shiro talked about, following them until they met Lotor in the museum. They watched the exchange between the two gods with Lance's rifle._ _

__“They went after Lotor too. The assassin must be Pidge's partner.”_ _

__Lance follows the running woman with his rifle, finger already on the trigger._ _

__“Kill her?” He asks, Keith frowning._ _

__“She's defenseless with Pidge busy with Allura. Shoot her.”_ _

__He ignores the gnawing in his gut that tells him that he wanted to make her suffer for going after Lance-_ _

__Lance shoots._ _

__Red blood splatters on the sidewalk. Some screams were heard. Keith realizes that he went wrong somewhere with his deduction._ _

__Ezor falls._ _

__\---_ _

_”... Pidge?”_

__After Ezor escaped, Pidge only continued to bother Allura for a little bit until she escaped herself. There was no need to fight her after all._ _

__“Matt. What's the status?”_ _

__A bit of static noise from the other end._ _

_“They took the bait. Ezor is dead.”_ Matt says. Pidge nods, thinking. 

__“It means Allura's partner must be here in this city and finished the job for her. Well, you know what it means.”_ _

_“I can go wild?”_ A hopeful voice says. 

__“Go wild,” Pidge confirms, a slight grin on her lips._ _

__\---_ _

__Every TV in Arus shows the same image, the same message._ _

_“Hey! This is Matt Holt! I didn't like how you ignored my game in Altea and just got everyone out. So here's a punishment game! Lo and behold, I'm trying my newest work in Arus! Without a warning! Other than this warning of course.”_

__\---_ _

__Soft white snow begins to fall._ _

__Grey clouds raise from Arus._ _

__Red blood seeps through the streets._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes in case you are confused:  
> 1\. Pidge was never planning on saving Ezor and Zethrid. She was planning on helping them escape and either bait Allura's partner out or get the info they were trying to hide. Once Matt and she knew 'Allura's partner' was in the city, they decided to blow everything up to eliminate them. They didn't know it was Keith and Lance. They also didn't see Lotor.  
> 2\. The loopholes in the rules (Only defend humans or yourself. Don't attack a human unless you have seen them bleed the color of a god.):  
> Shiro in chapter one was defending Adam, who was attacked by Lance. He deemed throwing a knife at him was a necessary defensive action, which is covered by the rules.  
> Allura in this chapter used her whip to defend herself. That the whip also pierced Zethrid not necessarily a defensive action, but because the defense and the kill were done in one movement, it counts as one action. And it can't be denied that stopping the bullet was a defensive motivation, so it gives the action, even though a kill was reached with that, a defensive character, which is covered by the rules. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! All the partners and gods made an appearance now. Eliminated first: Hunk. Who will be eliminated second?


	7. HEAVEN: Wärme/Sehnsucht

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith realizes something. Lance makes a confession. Goodbye, goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate myself.

Lance is not moving. His eyes are closed and he's so, so pale, his foot is angled really weirdly and he was bleeding slightly from a wound on his side, blue blood slowly trickling to the ground.

Keith curses and tries to blast everything in their way to freedom away, but no such luck. It seems like protecting Lance from the explosions and the falling rubble has exhausted him.

He did manage to keep Lance mostly safe, but now they are trapped underneath all the rubble Keith had redirected. Buried alive.

Keith knows if it we're just him, he'd just lay in wait until all of his powers returned and then he'd blast everything away - but Lance was with him. Lance isn't able to wait this long. Keith doesn't even know how long exactly they've been buried - he was unconscious for a long time as well. And now, the god can feel the air is getting thinner. He stops breathing. He doesn't necessarily need it, he only does it because his body does it unconsciously - if he focuses he can stop it - and it is clear that Lance does.

Right now, Keith's trying to find a weak spot in the rubble to at least get a hole for air - if he gets lucky, he'll maybe get one big enough for both of them to escape. He knows it's dangerous, the rubble might collapse, but if he does nothing, Lance will die anyway. Maybe trying to move the rubble blindly isn't the best course of action, but he can't think of a plan.

It might be because of the panic clouding his mind, never in his life - and his life has been really long - had he felt frantic as he does know, desperately trying to find a spot where he can start digging. The words _Lance is dying, Lance is dying-_ keep being repeated in his mind and he tries to lift the rubble harder.

He wonders when Lance dying became something he feared so, so much-

_I always feared that he was going to die because it'll lose me the game-_

_This is DIFFERENT I HAVE NEVER FELT LIKE THIS BEFORE-_

He needs to focus. He needs to move some of the rubble to make a way. Save Lance. Lance with eyes that match the color of the lion protecting him. Lance with a smile so bright stars would be packing in comparison (and Keith knows because technically he is a star). Lance who cares so much but doesn't care about himself. Lance, dancing on the edge to death.

He needs to focus. Then he might get every single ounce of strength that is left out, he'll be able to move the rubble in that case, so he really, really needs to focus. He wants to take a deep breath to do that, but quickly remembers that he couldn't do that. Because it will only accelerate Lance's death, something Keith wants to avoid at all costs. After all, Lance had trusted him to catch him should he fall once again on that night. He would hate to break that trust, because that would make Lance sad for sure. And Keith wants Lance to laugh and be happy. He shortly thinks about continuing to watch Lance after he had won the game, giving him all the happiness in the world. He'll win the lottery or something and be rich enough to never have to lift a finger in his life again. He can travel or pursue anything he'd like. He'll meet a lot of nice people that care for him as friends. And one of them is a sweet woman who loves him as a whole. Takes all his flaws and still loves him. They'll be happy together and have a family with a lot of healthy children. For some reason, the last thoughts leaves a sour feeling in Keith, so he quickly brushes them off, glaring at the boulders in front of him as if he could destroy them by pure will.

He needs to focus. But he can't. All he can think about is Lance - he wants him to be happy, a thing which can't happen if he dies here and he wants to make it happen himself, not just as an entity, but as a person. He thinks about getting him a telescope so they can look at stars more (Lance had smiled a lot during that night). About telling a joke which makes Lance laugh (just like Lance does for him). About sitting on a couch, listening Lance ramble on about something that upsets him and comforting him and making him feel better afterward (just like Lance does for him). He thinks about making each other smile, making each other laugh, comforting each other. And he realizes the thoughts he had before were definitely less sour when he imagined himself being with Lance instead of some woman.

Keith ignores it, but he had seen this so many times already. He is a god, a bored god and all he does is people watching and playing games with fellow gods. In all the years alive he has seen it countless times - two humans falling in love. Them spending their time together, confessing, getting married, starting a family. Staying with each other until they're old. Smiling together, laughing together, crying together.

It's love.

Keith shakes his head furiously. He needs to find a way out. After prodding for a bit, he finally manages to move a rock. Either he found a loose spot or his strength is returning. He tries to free more way.

_Am I in love?_

He can't be. Gods aren't supposed to fall in love with humans. Relationships like this never end well, anyway. He can't grow old with Lance. He's immortal.

_But Lance laughing when he saw my first time eating instant noodles-_

He's admitting that he likes Lance a lot more than he thought he would after selecting him on accident. Back then, all Lance was to him was a suicidal that ruined all of his chances on victory in the game. But he's proven himself, again and again, his skill with a gun and his calming presence helping Keith not only to kill but also to plan and stop his partner from falling into every trap. He's… strong, differently from the usual strong (you know, like Shiro), Keith likes to admire, but strong nonetheless. So he's come to admire his human partner, accepting how strong he is. That's not love.

_But Lance smiling softly at the night sky while I explain the constellations to him-_

He can't love a human, he's a god. There's just no place for a human on his side. Even though Lance is strong for a human, he's still so weak. That's just how humans are. A single wound in the head can kill them. A single shot through their heart can kill them. A few days off food and water can kill them. A few minutes without oxygen can kill them. Pain and sadness can break them. Humans are weak. And if a god loved them, they are that god's weakness as well. Just look at Keith right now, weak because he wanted to protect this human so badly, frantic and panicked because he doesn't want him to die so much. Keith doesn't want to be weak, he wants to be the strongest god.

_But Lance silently crying after his sister betrayed him, hugging Keith close after he offered-_

Oh gods. 

Keith kicks another stone away. There's a weak beam of light from the outside, right above his head. He made it. He made a hole to the outside. Lance is getting air again and they can escape from this premature grave. All he needs to do is to make the hole a little bigger.

A groan makes him stop for a second and he looks back. Lance's eyes flutter open and he tries to sit up, wincing at his bloody side. “Keith?” He calls, somewhat panicked until his eyes fall on the god, standing in a day of light.

“Oh, there you are.” He still sounds out of it, but he's smiling softly so Keith smiles back at him.

“Thank the gods Lance. You're finally awake. I thought I lost you.” Lance chuckled and finally manages to sit, back leaning against the rubble.

“Keith, you are a god,” he drawls, making his partner roll his eyes. 

“I know,” is the simple answer, and Keith goes back to work. Lance is still hurt and needs some treatment. Treatment that is definitely not down here.

“Hey Keith,” Lance calls and Keith spares him a glance before going back to work. Considering he had been unconscious for who knows how long, was bleeding from his side (though it wasn't bleeding too much anymore) and his foot was maybe broken (probably bruised, actually), he was holding up fine, blue eyes shining in the dark, smile on his lips.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” Lance says, giggling a bit.

“... No.” Lance laughed at his answer, wincing and holding his side after apparently laughing too hard.

“Don't worry Lance. I'm nearly done here,” he pries off more rubble, unceremoniously tossing to the ground. “And then we get outta here and we can treat that.”

“Uhuh”, Lance answers. “But seriously, the light from outside is like… shining directly at you. You are literally standing in a pillar of light. And the snow is falling around you so slowly. It's… actually kinda heavenly.”

Keith raises his eyebrows, for the first time aware of the light streaming in and the snow falling through from the escape he had prepared. “I am a heavenly being.”

“Yeah, now you just look it too.”

Keith's cheeks burn. He wants to glare but he can't, some feeling in his chest stopping him. He chooses to avoid the other's eyes instead, focusing on their escape path as much as possible.

“Hey Keith,” Lance calls again, Keith grunting to acknowledge he heard him. “Thanks for saving me again.”

Keith gives him no answer.

“I know it's only because you wanna win the game, but it has been such a long time anyone has cared enough to even have a decent talk with me. Hell, my sister helped an assassin to locate and kill me. I wonder what kind of money she would've gotten if she was successful. Enough to be worth more than my life? Granted, it might not be much-”

“Don't,” Keith interrupts and Lance halts. “Don't talk about your life that way.”

“... Okay. I'm sorry.” The silence that follows is heavy and Keith doesn't know how to break it. He's never been good at communicating and he didn't notice how much Lance's silence bothered him until just now. With Lance, it's supposed to be jokes and teasing and talking (of course, Keith remembers how Lance was when they first met. Now that he knows the Lance that ate instant noodles with him, that watched stars with him, that trusted him, he doesn't want him to go back to that). Keith misses his voice, his laugh. He needs to say something, anything.

Oh gods.

“Your life is worth so much more than money. You're…” Keith struggles to find the right words. Lance is either waiting patiently or unable to form words as well. “ You're… really funny and smart. You help me avoid traps I would fall for because I don't think about it. Your gunshots have saved me more times than I can count, you always got my back. Your aim is amazing, you're a great shot. And…”

_I love you._

He can't say it.

Lance is looking at him, locking eyes and Keith wants to turn away. But something about Lance's eyes is drawing him in, making it impossible to avoid them.

“You deserve to be happy,” he says instead.

Keith finally manages to tear his eyes away. “I'll make sure of it,” he says. “After all of this is over, after I win the game and get control over everything, I'll make sure.”

A bright smile is the answer. Keith feels his own smile creeping to his face, feeling warm despite the snow slowly falling and the cold wind blowing through the hole.

But sometimes, a single word can turn everything around. The atmosphere can grow tense enough to strangle one, the warmth can grow cold. In this case, a single question from Lance wipes the smile off Keith's face, the air suddenly feels freezing, the tension oppressing. His mouth feels dry and he doesn't know how to respond.

“Will you stay after the game is over?”

Keith clears his throat a few times. His eyes dart between the hole that is how big enough to crawl through to Lance's eyes, finally settling in making the hole even larger so one could walk through. 

“What do you mean?” He croaks out, clearly knowing what Lance meant, but hoping he is wrong.

“I'm mean like, will you stay on Earth? I get that you're a god and stuff,” _No._

“And that you usually don't spend time here, but like somewhere… where gods usually are. I'd don't know. Uh, anyway, I was hoping once this is all over we can maybe hang out sometimes?” _No, no-_

“Lance, I can't stay.” He looks so disappointed. It makes Keith feel bad- 

_Heart aches-_

“I can't,” he repeats in a firmer voice, more than the whisper he got out first. Oh, he'd love to stay and spend a life with Lance. But it's impossible. He's a god and gods shouldn't mix with humans. They can't. There's no way any of this would end well. So he has to stop this before it can even start.

“Why not?” He turns to look Lance into the eyes, swallowing before talking.

“When I win the game, I have to go back and do… god things. I'll be deciding over humanity alone if I win after all.” _Lurch._ “I don't have the time to waste here.” _Heave._ “Especially not the time to be hanging out with a human.” _Tug._ “I’m not going to stay just because you want to hang out.” _Flip._ “I have more important things to do.” _Gag._ “And don't believe for a second I'd give up what I win in the game to spend time with you.”

Keith feels ready to throw up. During his little speech, he had seen Lance's expression morph, from slightly hopeful to a little confused, continuing with disappointment and finally, hurt. He turns back to work immediately.

“You don't want to continue spending time with me?”

“Of course not.”

_That's a lie-_

He has to stop it before it can even start, or it will hurt even worse.

“But you just said that I deserve to be happy?” And that you'll make sure of it? I thought…” Lance shakes his head. Something shimmering in his eyes. Only when it drops to the ground Keith knows.

“Why are you being so weird? Like one second you're so nice and kind and then you suddenly say I'm not worthy of your time? What's your deal?”

Keith stops working (whatever, it's big enough now anyway) and turns to Lance. He is met with a fierce glare (the shimmering are not tears, or so Keith tells himself) that rivaled Keith's own. In fact, it made Keith glare back automatically.

Good, because he needs to glare.

_Bad because I don't want to glare at Lance or want him to glare at me-_

“I thought we were like… friends or something. I thought we bonded! I thought-”

“You were wrong,” Keith interrupts, huffing. He ignores how the intense glare lessened, Lance's hurt shining through.

_I wish we were more than friends._

“How will I be able to be happy without you, though?” Lance whispers, furrowed brows betraying his sadness. The shimmering originating from his eyes hits the ground. Keith ignores it once more.

“You won't remember me anyway.”

Lance's eyes widen at that, lips slightly parting. For a second, only his ragged breathing is hearable. Keith's breath isn't hearable as he wasn't, in fact, breathing, still holding his breath from before when the air scarce (saving it for Lance-).

“Why?” Lance finally asks, still breathless. 

“Because I'll erase your memory once this is done. It's a rule we came up with before the game started. It's too dangerous to have a human know of our existence without a reason.”

Lance shakes his head. “I won't remember you at all?” Fear and shock are lacing his words. “Not the game, not the gods, everything we did together- nothing?” 

Keith doesn't need to give an answer for him to understand. The silence is tense and Lance's shoulders slump. It's hard for Keith to keep glaring.

“No…”

_No!_

“I don't want that!”

_I don't want this either!_

“I want to remember you, Keith!”

_I want you to remember me as well!_

“I don't want to forget the time we spent together!”

_I want to spend even more time with you...!_

“I don't wanna forget…”

_No, no, nononononono-_

“Keith please…”

_NONONONONO-_

“I don't want to forget you. I want to remember you, I want to spend time with you, I-I want you to stay…”

He needs to stop it before it even starts. Or else it will hurt, it will hurt so much-

_But it's already too late..._

“Because, Keith, you know,”

_It already hurts._

“I… I love you!”

_... I love you too._

But they can't be. Human and gods are not meant to mix.

“You only think you love me because I'm the only person who's talking to you right now,” Keith grits out. Lance shakes his head furiously.

“No, no! It's not like that! I really love you! D-didn't I say before? How I belong with you? How I need you? I'm-”

A sigh. “Lance, please stop it.”

“P-please Keith… I r-really love you.”

The short shimmering in his eyes is now a constant, hitting the ground beneath him again and again. His breath is uneven and interrupted by sobs. His lips are turned in a heavy frown. Keith pulls all of his strength together once more and-

“I can't reciprocate those feelings. And I'll never be able to.”

It's better this way. It wouldn't have ended well. 

“Then at least leave me the memory,” Lance pleads. Keith shakes his head. He feels sluggish and tired. It's weird because gods aren't supposed to feel that way.

“It can't be helped, Lance.”

Lance is an ugly crier. His hands keep moving to wipe the tears and snot away, but he also keeps pulling his own hair with same hands, spreading it there. His body keeps shaking and his knees move close to his chest, his shoulders are hunched. His screams mix with wails and sobs and are desperate, loud, mouth open so wide one can see all of his crooked teeth, a bit of drool is running down his chin and meeting the tears he fails to wipe away.

“I wish you had let me die,” Lance whispers.

“Sometimes, I wish I had too.”

And this was it. Their relationship is broken beyond repair. Lance's eyes widen for a second before he wipes all of his tears and snot off and struggles to stand with his bad foot. Keith wants to help, but he doesn't. He doesn't feel like he deserved that anymore.

So he watches silently as Lance finally manages to stand, holding his bleeding side and limping to the exit, tears still silently falling past his eyelashes, though the sobbing and the snot have stopped. Without another word, he pushes past Keith and leaves, and Keith lets him. Doesn't watch him leave and doesn't try to stop him. Ignoring the slight crunching of his steps on the snow outside, getting more and more distant. Ignoring the trail of blue blood following his path. 

Keith just stays in the cave and stares at the place Lance was sitting a few seconds ago.

It's better this way.

Why are those words getting harder and harder to believe?

“Dude, go after him.”

A voice rips him out of his thoughts. Instinctively, he enters his fighting stance, making the owner of the voice step out of the shadows and appearing in front of him.

It's a fellow god. It's Hunk.

Immediately, Keith relaxes - Hunk's out of the game, so it was forbidden for him to interfere with him in any way- and lowers his hands, raising an eyebrow.

“What are you doing here?”

Hunk raises an eyebrow back at him. “You know, watching the game from above, as I'm allowed as an eliminated person. And then I witnessed your major fuck up and came here to help a buddy out.”

Keith winces at Hunk's choice of words. Hunk is not the person to curse like that unless somebody did fuck up badly.

“You gotta go after him to fix this, Keith.”

“There's nothing to fix,” Keith says defensively but Hunk shakes his head at him, grabbing both of his shoulders to stop him from turning away.

“Keith, you care about your human- don't you dare to deny it,” Keith closes his mouth again. “I've seen how you look at him. And I've been living alongside you for centuries. I know you. And I'm telling right now. You'll regret it if you don't make up with him. You'll moan and wail for thousand and thousand years over this and you'll be like ‘man I can't believe I never told that human how much he meant to me!’ and 'why didn't you tell me to talk to him?’, seriously, I'm telling you now.”

“But… I'm a god and he's…” Keith starts to protest weakly, but Hunk interrupts him.

“Dude, who cares? Shiro is all heart eyes with his partner, Allura was kissing her partner yesterday… or every day, really, I was… I admit I really, really liked her before she… you know.”

Keith's eyes widen and he mumbles apologies, Hunk waving them off.

“Humans don't live that long dude. You have to use the little time you have wisely. They die eventually. Just like everything does. But it doesn't stop you from loving them, does it?”

Keith looks at Hunk with big eyes.

“What are you waiting for?”

Keith runs.

\---

It's cold outside. Lance doesn't know how long he was out for, but it had started snowing while he was trapped with Keith, and the snow was about as thick as 5 centimeters on the ground, crunching under his steps. 

While the smoke had dissipated, the city was in ruins, buildings collapsed into each other, rubble and building parts along with was used to be furniture on the once clear, now cracked street. If glass from the empty windows was scattered on the ground, most of it was covered by the snow. Sometimes, streaks of red ran through the snow. Sometimes, pale hands or unmoving feet protruded from the ruins, sometimes even faces, eyes wide open, mouth forever opened to a silent scream. He looks away.

Lance carefully avoids the rubble, walking down a path he doesn't have decided on. He really doesn't know what to do anymore. Keith gave him a reason to live. And it was his sole reason to live.

So instead of thinking about that, he just wanders through the ruins of Arus, staring at the falling snow in wonder.

He's still limping - his foot is probably bruised - and there's still blood trickling out of his wound in his side and his cheeks feel especially cold because of the wetness of his tears. They may have stopped for now, but that was only because of the numbness Lance feels.

Keith rejecting him. Keith not wanting him to remember him. Keith admitting he should've let him-

But Keith telling that he was strong. Keith telling him he deserved to be happy. Keith…

Shaking the thoughts about the other off, he continues walking, making it to where his feet have carried him unconsciously.

There is a big river running through all of Altea, Daibazaal, and Arus.

It was at that same river he was watching stars with Keith, holding his hand while he was crossing it. The buildings around it were still standing, reaching up high up to the sky, surrounding the surprisingly clear field in front of the riverbank. There are no traces of red blood or rubble, just white snow. Lance breathes out a shaky breath and tries to reach the shore.

But he suddenly feels dizzy - he doesn't think the blood loss was that bad - and stumbles, his bad foot stopping the other foot from catching itself and his arm which was not covering his wound flailing in front of him, trying to feather the fall.

Someone catches him.

Lance can feel their chest rise with each breath, their fingers brushing over his clothed arm.

“Keith?” He asks in a whisper, slowly lifting his head, hoping the god had come after him (because that would prove it wasn't completely hopeless for him right?), hoping he'd meet fierce ur eyes and wild, black hair (mullet, he was hoping to see the mullet) but he is greeted by hair as white as the snow surrounding him and eyes like a black hole drawing him in.

“I'm sorry, it's nothing personal,” Shiro says. “But Adam will live.”

He raises his blade.

Lance closes his eyes. He thinks the pain in his stomach is not as bad as the pain in his heart.

And he's glad that it will finally stop.

\---

Following Lance's trail is easy. There are footprints in the snow, here and there a droplet of blue blood that assures him that those are the right footprints.

Keith doesn't think he's ever run this fast before. “Lance!” He calls, again and again. Every time there is no answer, Keith starts to run even faster.

He's too late.

He turns the corner just in time to witness Shiro retrieving his blade from Lance's body.

Lance, falling into the snow limply, coloring it into a dark blue.

Lance not moving, pale and his eyes closed, blood trickling out of his mouth.

“No…” Keith whispers, staring at the scene in from of him with wide eyes.

_“Humans don't live that long dude. They die eventually.”_

Heat flows through his veins. It's a different heat than the warmth he felt being spread through his chest when he talked with Lance. No, it was rage. Rage, flowing through him like lava.

How dare they hurt Lance. His finger burned with the need for vengeance, with the need to hurt Adam and Shiro back thousands of times worse.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!” His scream alerts Adam who pushes Shiro aside and blocks Keith's jumping strike with his transformed Bayard. Keith jumps back while Shiro still composed himself and attacks Adam once again, this time managing to kick Adam away after a harsh blow that made Adam try to push him off with his weapon, overshooting when Keith just stopped pushing himself.

Before Keith can attack the groaning human however, Shiro counters, their blades clashing once, twice before they jump apart to circle each other.

“Why is he still attacking us? Shouldn't he be out of the game?” Adam asks, getting back on his feet, albeit wobbly.

“No,” Shiro answers with gritted teeth, focusing on Keith who doesn't make a sound.

“Lance isn't dead yet, therefore they aren't eliminated yet. Keith's choosing to spend Lance's lasts breaths trying to eliminate us.”

And with those words, they both charge at Keith at the same time, trying to render the god unable to fight. 

Keith makes a second blade appear for his free hand, blocking both of them with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. He swings his swords back at them as soon as he gets the chance, they also skillfully blocking and the cycle repeats itself. Whenever Keith manages to kick one of them away, he focuses on the other, using both of his blades to try to make some damage.

He has never fought as fierce as he is fighting right now.

Watching his enemy's every step, watching for them to make a mistake.

And the mistake comes. Adam missteps, his inexperience with fighting showing. He thinks he's safe when Keith blocks Shiro's strike with both of his blades, occupying both of his hands. He lunges at Keith, weapon raised to strong strike. Those tend to be riskier and leave oneself open more.

Keith manages to push Shiro away with the combined force of both of his hands. Shiro stumbles. Keith does a handstand and kicks Adam, still vulnerable during his charge, to the jaw. Then, after hearing an audible crack his other foot strikes him a second time, Adam's eyes roll back into his head and he collapses to the ground. Keith jumps back to his feet and blocks Shiro, already attacking him again.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see Adam groaning as he got up again, holding his jaw.

Again, his and Shiro's blades clash as they fight, Keith blocking a strike close to his right cheek. And his gaze falls on the other god's arm blade, soaked in blood. Keith's eyes widen and he jumps away, continuing to stare at the blade. 

It's blue, so blue.

Blue like Lance's eyes.

_“We're a team, so it's our fault.”_

Lance looking at him, the tips of his eyebrows raised, a hesitant smile on his lips.

_“I know you'd catch me if I fall.”_

Lance staring at the stars in the sky, his eyes widened in wonder and lips slightly parted.

_“You’re a good person, Keith.”_

Lance drawing something into the sand with a stick, smiling softly.

_“I need you.”_

Lance leaning on his shoulder, telling how the noodles are still hot.

_“I belong with you.”_

Lance hugging him, moonlight shining on his face, his eyes glittering, his teeth white.

_“We need each other.”_

Lance telling him how much he loves him.

_“We belong with each other.”_

Shiro looks at him with wide eyes. “Keith…” he starts, but Keith doesn't listen. With a feral scream he takes advantage of Shiro being distracted and cuts that cursed blade off first - Shiro watching it fly to the ground, following it with his gaze. Then, Keith lunges both his blades forward, directly through the chest of the other with another battle cry.

Shiro's eyes fall in him again. He weakly raises his hand. “...You're crying, Keith…”

Before he can wipe the tears away, he goes limp. Dead.

Immediately, Keith retrieves his blades, making black blood spill everywhere. Just like Shiro's blade was soaked in Lance's blue blood, his two blades were soaked in black blood now.

He turns on Adam, who was still a bit dazed. Yet, he prepared a fighting stance, his Bayard transforming. Keith snacks it away with ease, kicking his enemy down one more time. He raises his sword.

He's making them pay.

He brings it down.

And stops.

He's out of the game. Lance is dead. He died just now. He's not allowed to interfere anymore.

Only now Keith can feel the wetness on his cheeks. Shiro was right, he's crying. Gods usually don't cry. In all the centuries he had been alive, he had never seen any of them cry.

He watches Adam slowly opening his eyes, staring at him in wonder. _Why can he live but Lance CAN'T-_

Screaming, he throws both of his blades to the ground. And the tears keep coming.

\---

“If he loved Lance so much, why didn't he spend his last moments with him instead of going for the kills on Shiro and Adam? He's dead now. He's never getting a chance again. He's never going to be able to fix this. Lance will never know his feelings were reciprocated. He died thinking Keith regretted saving him!”

“We all make stupid decisions sometimes. And I don't think Keith was really thinking on this one.”

Hunk sighs. He knows Allura is right. 

“Well, I gotta go back to the above, maybe help Keith calm down or something. Good luck with the rest of the game.”

Allura smiles and waves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KEEEEEEEEIIIIITTTTHHHHH-
> 
> Second eliminated: Keith.  
> QueenBookworm was right again.
> 
> I feel a little bad because one or two chapters ago someone commented on how they weren't ready for their favorite Paladin Lance to die and I was like "same." AND YET HERE I AM. 
> 
> Also, I'm super bad with fighting scenes, I hope one can understand what's happening lmao
> 
> Thanks for all of you commenting on the last chapter <3! Helped me write this faster.

**Author's Note:**

> APPARENTLY, if I was one of the Paladins, I would be Lance, which is funny, because that's my pseud! 
> 
> Plans:  
> -I think the storyline is pretty straightforward. Taking predictions in which order the gods will be eliminated now!  
> -Other characters will appear. Probably.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!


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